The Things Reflected in My Eyes
by NephandiMan
Summary: What if Orihime had healed Ulquiorra before he disintegrated?  How will they, and the worlds they inhabit, deal with the consequences of that choice?  And why did Ulquiorra join with Aizen in the first place?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**: This tale was inspired by reading Ulquiorra's backstory in _Unmasked_, and realizing that for all it told us about the Fourth Espada, it left unanswered one of the most intriguing questions of all: why did he join with Aizen in the first place? There are a number of reasons why Ulquiorra and Orihime is probably my favorite _Bleach_ pairing, and one of them is that the relationship between these two, as I see it, goes a long way toward answering that question, as well as providing a focal point for other interesting questions that are only briefly glanced at in the main series. To say much more would risk spoiling the story, so I will close for now, and leave you with the hope that you will enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Author's note, addendum**: According to the demands of my conscience, which were consolidated and focused by a reviewer who combined graciousness with a critical eye, I have expanded this chapter to almost twice its original length. Looking over it again, I realized the previous version seemed rushed, and the revisions focus primarily on physical descriptions and glimpses into the character's unvoiced thoughts – slowing down and gazing upon landscapes external and internal, as it were. I will be similarly expanding other chapters, though I cannot promise they will all be increased by the same magnitude.

I also removed the summary of prior events that I prefaced to this chapter in an earlier revision. Its purpose was to give readers new to the series a foothold, but since this story has now surpassed 40,000 words, the only people likely to give it so much as a glance are probably already familiar with the canonical material, at least up through chapter 353 or episode 272, which end where this story begins. (In case anyone should prove an exception to that rule, there are a number of fine online resources for anyone who wants background information without spending scores of hours reading or watching the whole series).

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"Are you afraid of me, woman?"

He had asked her that before – before Kurosaki-kun charged into the fifth tower to save her. She had denied it, but in truth she _had _been a little scared, especially after he began ranting about hearts and how readily humans spoke of them. The worst of it had been when he asked if he could find her heart by crushing her skull or ripping open her chest. But as she watched him reaching out to her, she realized that the question had changed. Before, he'd simply asked whether she was afraid. Now, he was asking whether she was afraid _of him_.

And she realized that the violence of his words at that time didn't come from wanting to do violence to her – it came from his violent desire to understand. She saw that desire in his brilliant green eyes, which were softer and more pained than she had ever seen them, and she saw it in his outstretched hand, which, like his eyes, had reverted to its human form. Instead of answering him, or by way of answering him, Orihime approached Ulquiorra until his hand was almost touching her, and raised her own hands chest-high.

"Souten Kisshun. I reject," she said quietly, and the familiar orange light surrounded Ulquiorra's mangled body. Ulquiorra's eyes grew wide, and had Orihime not been so focused on her task, she would have smiled. Anyone else would have been staring at her, open-mouthed; for Ulquiorra-kun, widening his eyes was as much surprise as he ever showed.

"Inoue," Ichigo said hesitantly, "what are you doing?"

"Please, Kurosaki-kun," she said, not looking at him, "it's easier if I concentrate."

"You're... _healing_ him?" She could hear the shock, disbelief, and horror in his voice.

"Yes." She pressed her hands against the healing shield the orange light had formed, and frowned in concentration. She had healed life-threatening injuries before, and even brought people back from the dead, but it wasn't easy even with her full attention.

"Are you insane?" he blurted. "He killed me! _Twice__!_"

"Yes. And a moment ago, you offered to mutilate yourself so you could have a fair fight with him." She turned to look at him for the first time since Ulquiorra had spoken, and there was a strange look in her eyes. It was mostly apologetic, but there was something else mixed in... sorrow? Regret? Reproach? What the hell did she have to _reproach_ him for? Not for killing a Hollow, surely – that was his job as a Shinigami. Maybe she really was angry about his offer to continue the fight on even ground, but if so, this wasn't the way to go about it.

"Yeah, but... if he's back up at full, that's a different matter. I have no idea where that new form came from, or if I can get it back."

From his position on the ground, sitting against a rock, Ishida spoke. "Perhaps you shouldn't have revealed that to our enemy," he said through gritted teeth, and Ichigo smacked himself on the forehead. Why couldn't he ever think things through? If he had thought a little more carefully, maybe they wouldn't be in this weird, frightening situation. For his part, Ulquiorra was impressed: even with a missing arm and a sword wound to the gut, the Quincy was still thinking strategically.

"You needn't worry," the Espada said as the orange glow faded from around him, revealing that he had returned fully to his unreleased form, with his sword, Murciélago, sheathed at his side. His body was healed, but his uniform still hung about him in tatters. "You have my word that I will not attack you or your companions without provocation, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Your word?" Ichigo said quietly as he looked away with a thoughtful expression. "You know, if you asked me an hour ago whether I would ever take the word of a Hollow, I would've laughed in your face. But when I'm fighting someone, I get a sense of him through his sword. I'm not saying I can read minds or anything like that, but I see the outlines of who he is." He looked back at Ulquiorra with a firm set to his face. "Anyone could tell you have no problem distracting an opponent in order to win... but I don't believe you would outright lie. The people you see as below you aren't worth it, and the people you see as above you wouldn't be fooled anyway. Is that about right?"

"You have good instincts, for a human," Ulquiorra answered in his usual monotone, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Tch... I'll take that as a compliment," Ichigo smiled wryly.

"I don't lie, and I don't go back on my word," the Espada continued, as though Ichigo hadn't spoken.

"Does your word include Soul Society?" Ishida asked as Orihime began healing him.

"Good point," Ichigo nodded with a deeper frown than usual. "Does it include Soul Society?"

The Espada was silent for a moment. He glanced at Orihime to find her watching him expectantly, and focused again on Ichigo. "Do you consider them your companions?"

"Of course!" Ichigo couldn't believe he would even ask that – but then, he was a Hollow. Some of them might have understood loyalty, if only to bigger brutes, but not one of them understood compassion or friendship.

Ulquiorra nodded. "Then yes, it includes them. I will defend myself, if need be, but I will not attack them without provocation."

"What about humans?" Ishida asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was now fully healed, and unlike Ulquiorra's, his outfit had been completely restored. Ulquiorra's gaze focused on him.

"I am a Vasto Lorde, the highest class of Hollow. Even if I were interested in human souls, they would not be enough to sustain me."

"What about the ones you kill for fun?" Ichigo asked sharply. The fourth Espada turned his attention to the substitute Shinigami, and the cold, sharply cut emeralds of his eyes narrowed slightly.

"I killed one human unnecessarily, shortly after I entered Lord Aizen's service. I took no joy in it, and have not done it again."

"You expect us just to believe that?" the young man pressed, frowning.

"Didn't you say I stayed away from lies?"

Ichigo snorted. For all his pretensions, this Hollow really was perceptive – annoyingly so. "Just answer the question."

"I see…" Ulquiorra answered, returning to his neutral expression. "I don't enjoy unnecessary violence in any case. And devouring humans while I am trying to learn more about them would be worse than unnecessary."

Ichigo grinned wryly. "Oh, really? Why this sudden interest in us? I thought we were just trash to you."

It might have been a trick of the light, but the corners of Ulquiorra's mouth seemed to turn down fractionally. "You have defeated me, substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo. I no longer have a place here. Living among humans and learning about them may be interesting." He looked away, lost in thought. "Also..."

It was not like the Espada to hesitate, and Ichigo frowned. "Also what?" Ulquiorra looked at him, and Ichigo was startled to see that he looked lost. Only a little, to be sure – his stoic demeanor and inhuman certainty were still mostly intact – but from Ulquiorra, even that little bit was a revelation.

"For the first time, I wonder if I made the wrong choice in following Lord Aizen. Alone, not one of you was a match for us, and I was sure you would be devoured before you could even reach Las Noches. As it turned out, even killing you twice only slowed you down." He nodded ever so slightly in Orihime's direction. "I don't know how much of your victory is due to the heart this woman talks about, but it's far more powerful than I thought. It may even be able to defeat Lord Aizen himself."

All three of the humans were stunned. This was the last thing they had expected to hear from an Espada, let alone the one who was coldest by far. Even Orihime, who had spent more time with him than any of her friends, and who had seen the changes occurring in him, could scarcely believe her ears. Ishida was the first to break the spell of the moment, standing up and coughing.

"In any case," he interjected, focusing on Ulquiorra with a businesslike demeanor, "we should be getting to Karakura Town. You can open a portal, correct?" The Espada nodded. "Good. Then you won't have any trouble returning us there."

"Wait... 'us'?" Orihime asked, her eyes widening. She knew that Ishida was a Quincy, a line of superpowered humans who were sworn enemies of Hollows, and who had been nearly wiped out by the Gotei 13, the military arm of Soul Society. Ulquiorra, then, was a union of the two types of people he hated most – even so, was Ishida going to accept him? The Quincy saw the nascent hope in her eyes, and frowned.

"Don't get me wrong, Inoue," he said before turning his attention back to Ulquiorra. "It's not that I trust you. I've accepted that short of Kurosaki's new form, there's no point in fighting you – and even if he could summon that form at will, it seems to be at least as dangerous to us as it is to our enemies. Under the circumstances, the only reasonable course is to remain with you and ensure you keep your word."

"What about the fight below?" Ichigo put in. "Rukia, Chad, and Renji are still down there, and they're facing-" He cut himself off, realizing that one of the reiatsu from below had completely vanished.

"It seems that fool Yammy has finally met his match." Ulquiorra said without a trace of emotion. Ichigo's teeth clenched involuntarily.

"And you don't care? He was your comrade!" the young man shouted. Ulquiorra's expression didn't change.

"He was a fool who fancied himself far more important that he was. I will never understand why Lord Aizen insisted on feeding his delusions with nonsense about his Espada rank increasing when he entered his Resurreción."

Ichigo's fingers tightened on the hilt of his zanpakutou, Zangetsu, and Ishida cleared his throat.

"In any case," the Quincy interjected, trying to stave off an unnecessary tempest, "it seems the immediate threat to our friends is over. We should reunite with them and turn our attention to Aizen."

"Reunite with them?" Ulquiorra asked with the faintest hint of reprove. "I suspect they will not be as welcoming as you have been."

Orihime looked at him in surprise. Had Ulquiorra really just made a joke? She had learned to recognize the subtle changes in his face and posture that indicated shifts in his mood, signs so subtle that people who were not as familiar with him as she was would almost certainly miss them, but in this case, she couldn't tell whether he was joking.

"Well, I'll be damned if I'm leaving Inoue alone with you," Ichigo said with a scowl, his fingers tightening again on the hilt of his sword.

"As will I," Ishida added. He flicked his hand, a subtle movement, but one that dislodged the focus of his Quincy powers from his sleeve and left it ready in the palm of his hand. With that focus, which resembled a six-spoked wheel, he could channel his reiatsu into a bow and arrows – several hundred arrows per second. Orihime looked back and forth between her friends and her former captor with a worried expression. Things were likely to get very bad, very fast, if she didn't stop them, and she stepped between them before she had even figured out what she would say. Her friends looked at her in surprise, and she bit her lip.

"Kurosaki-kun, Ishida-kun... I _was_ alone with him. You heard Aizen saying that I was no longer useful to him. Ulquiorra-kun could've killed me then, before you even showed up, but he didn't. I don't blame you for not forgiving him." She glanced toward Ulquiorra and smiled sadly. "To be honest, I haven't either... but I am willing to give him a chance to earn forgiveness." Ulquiorra slightly narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. Ichigo, on the other hand, was not willing to stay quiet.

"Why?" he asked bluntly, and Orihime's expression hardened.

"Why were you willing to give Byakuya-san a chance to earn forgiveness for promising to kill Rukia-san with his own hands?" she retorted. Ichigo's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. He'd never looked at it that way, and he scrambled for a response that would make sense.

"He... that's different. He's a Shinigami. This guy's a heartless monster."

"And you kill heartless monsters," Orihime replied.

"Of course. I'm a Shinigami, too."

She put her hand on his arm, and her expression softened into a plea for understanding. "You kill them, Kurosaki-kun... but I've spent my whole time here living among them. I know a thing or two about heartless monsters. And Ulquiorra-kun isn't one of them."

Ichigo clenched his jaw. "That settles it. Now I'm _really_ not leaving you alone with him... not until I figure out how he's brainwashed you." Ishida straightened his cape with a resolved expression; clearly, he wouldn't be leaving her alone either. She sighed, and clasped her hands together in supplication.

"Just... give him a chance. If not for his sake, then for mine. Please?" She gave her friends her most ingratiating smile. Ichigo fought with himself, a war that was clear on his face, before sighing and turning his attention to Ulquiorra.

"Get us back to Karakura Town, Hollow," he said flatly.

"I do not take orders from you, Shini-" The Espada stopped as Orihime laid a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him imploringly.

"Please, Ulquiorra-kun... take me home."

He looked away from her. "I told you, woman... don't address me as you would a human."

She smiled insistently. "But if you're going to be living among us, you might as well get used to it!" He stared at her, searching wordlessly for an answer to that foolish line of reasoning, and was mildly disturbed that he couldn't find one.

"While we're talking about forms of address," Ishida put in, "you may want to stop referring to Soul Society's greatest enemy as 'Lord Aizen,' especially when around Shinigami."

"I didn't think you would go out of your way to help me," the Espada said, though his tone registered no surprise. He and Ishida stared at each other for a long moment, the silence between them fairly crackling with barely-concealed hostility.

"Shinigami have a hard enough time getting along with anyone else as it is," he explained in a voice that was too calm, considering he was alluding to the near-genocide of the Quincy line. "If they do end up killing you, it should be for some crime you've committed, not for wounding their pride. No matter how much they may think that's a crime, it isn't."

"A pity you aren't stronger," Ulquiorra answered. "You might have made an interesting opponent."

"Are you done yet?" Ichigo barged in. "In case you've forgotten, we've got a maniac to stop, and a hometown to save."

Ulquiorra snapped his fingers, and a garganta opened behind him. Ichigo went first, and Ishida brought up the rear, leaving Orihime and Ulquiorra in the middle. Ulquiora looked at his erstwhile captive, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"Stay close to me, woman," he told her. "The Shinigami's reiatsu is considerable, but he has hardly any control over it. That will make for an uncertain path through the garganta."

The woman sidled up to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her, but Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock when she took his left hand out of his pocket and slipped her hand into it. When he was not using his powers to float, she was almost as tall as he was, and all he had to do to look her in the eyes was turn his head. She greeted him with a broad smile, and suddenly up was down and left was right. He tore his eyes away from hers and kept his gaze locked straight ahead after that, but although the confusion subsided, a question circled around and around in his mind, a question he could neither force himself to forget nor bring himself to ask. She had already provided an answer, but something about it hadn't satisfied Ulquiorra. In fact, he was more unsettled than he had ever been.

_Woman... why did you defend me?_

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><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: As you may have noticed, I put Japanese names in the traditional Japanese order, with the family name first. Most people interested enough in _Bleach_ to read fanfiction based on it probably realized this, but I thought I should mention it to help prevent confusion for readers who are not familiar with the convention.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: Welcome to the second chapter. Not much to say about this one; it's pretty self-explanatory.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Orihime shivered. She remembered that apart from the brilliant silvery-whine shine of the reiatsu-forged surface on which they traveled, the inside of the garganta was pure darkness, but she had forgotten the oppressive heaviness of that darkness. It weighed down upon her like a mountain, and made her feel like she was suffocating to death in an endless crowd, even as she and her friends – and Ulquiorra-kun – were the only ones there. She had been able to keep up a brave front as long as the enemy was something she could see and touch, but this darkness... how could she fight an enemy that wasn't there? It was too much. The darkness would eat them before they could even reach Aizen, and no one would ever know they had been there. She fell to her knees, gasping.

"Inoue? Inoue!" That was Kurosaki-kun... wasn't it? She looked up at him with wide eyes, but he seemed to be standing a hundred meters away, and his voice was just barely audible. If it weren't for the bright orange of his hair standing out against the darkness, she wouldn't have seen him.

"Inoue, are you all right?" That was Ishida-kun. He should've been more visible than Kurosaki-kun because of his white outfit, but he, too, was impossibly far away, and at that distance his clothes blended with the reiatsu road. Again, all she could see was the contrast of his black hair against the background.

Orihime tried to call out to them, but all that came out was a whisper. It wouldn't matter; she could just barely hear her friends at that distance, and with the darkness of the garganta pressing down on her, she couldn't scream to save her life.

_Foolish girl... they're not even real_, a cruel voice whispered in her ear... or was it speaking directly to her mind? She didn't know. _They're just phantoms you made up to comfort yourself as you succumb to me_. She reached out for them with one hand, pleading with her eyes... and felt a pressure that reassured rather than terrified.

"Stand up, woman."

His eyes were the first thing to become clear. They were bright, close... and _real_. They hovered over her, staring down in a mixture of reproach and encouragement. She lowered her own gaze to his hand, where it held hers, and came crashing back to reality. Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun were there, too, standing over her.

"Inoue... what happened?" Kurosaki-kun asked, looking terrified.

"You were screaming." Ishida-kun did a better job of hiding it, but she could tell that he, too, was scared for her.

"Screaming?" she whispered hoarsely. That couldn't be right… but then why did her throat feel raw? "I tried… but I couldn't make a sound."

"Inoue… you screamed like you were being dragged through hell," Ishida-kun said quietly. Orihime stared up at him. So she _had_ been screaming? Then why couldn't she hear herself? And what was that sinister voice whispering to her? Where had it come from, and why couldn't the others hear it? She couldn't remember anything like it from the time she came to Hueco Mundo. It had fallen silent with the touch of Ulquiorra-kun's hand, but the dreadful chill it had caused lingered on her spine.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down. "It's just... you looked like you were so far away, and you'd never be able to hear me, and I… I didn't know…" Her voice cracked. Ulquiorra squeezed her hand again, and she looked up to find him frowning ever so slightly.

"You are stronger than this. Or have your forgotten the courage you displayed your first time through the garganta?"

The fog of fear began lifting from her mind. She had been scared that first time, but she wouldn't let her captor, Aizen's servant, see her tremble. Of course, that was before she spent an unknown length of time held prisoner in a nameless tower, surrounded by creatures that, if not for Aizen's orders, would devour her as soon as look at her... but that was no excuse. For the sake of her friends, she would be stronger than that. For the sake of her friends, if there were some way to undermine Aizen from within his own fortress, she would find it. And she remembered her plan, the one she had devised shortly after learning the true nature of her powers. She didn't know if it would work, but with Aizen and his most powerful servants in the human world, and Ulquiorra-kun on her side, the chance that she had constantly looked for, but never found, was finally here.

"The Hougyoku... I have to destroy it!" She rose to her feet and turned back, trying to bring Ulquiorra-kun with her, but he stood rooted in place.

"It won't matter," he said quietly. "It has already served its purpose." Orihime stopped tugging at his hand, and her shoulders slumped. There was no doubt in his voice – not that there ever was.

"Are you sure of that?" Ishida-kun asked, frowning. "With the Espadas below you wiped out, Aizen will no doubt want to replenish his ranks. For that, he will need the Hougyoku."

"Even if you were correct, he would have it with him," Ulquiorra-kun answered. "But you are wrong. The Hougyoku's purpose was never to provide Aizen with soldiers. We are a mere side effect of its true purpose."

"What?" Ichigo belted. "He's got something _even worse_ in mind?"

"I don't know if you would consider it worse, but creating the Espadas was never his ultimate design. However, we can discuss that later – or have you suddenly become unconcerned about your home?"

Kurosaki-kun glared at him for a moment, but he finally turned around and began running for Karakura Town, jumping from platform to platform as his troubled mind made it harder to focus his reiatsu. Ulquiorra-kun stood perfectly still, watching Orihime expectantly. She squared her shoulders, returned to his side, and slipped her hand back into his. Maybe he was right; maybe it was too late for destroying the Hougyoku to make any difference, but she would not give in to despair. Aizen in front of them, Hueco Mundo behind, and the crushing darkness of the garganta all around... but she would be strong.

For her friends, for her home, for her world – and for Ulquiorra-kun's second chance – she would be strong.

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><p>Ulquiorra was irritated. The woman had clearly fallen apart, and all her friends could do was to call her name? He didn't know much about friends, but according to the woman, they were supposed to be a source of mutual support and strength. By that measure, he wondered how they considered each other friends at all. Perhaps it would be best to slaughter the men and take the woman back to Hueco Mundo. At least there she hadn't collapsed into a shaking wreck – not until her friends showed up.<p>

No, he decided. For one thing, he had given his word, and his word was sacrosanct. For another, Lord Aizen might have been willing to let her friends rescue her if they could, but there was no reason he would let her live once he returned from the human world. She had ceased to be an asset, and had become a liability – even more so now that she was leading Ulquiorra to insubordination. Had he simply allowed her friends to take her home, they would have left Las Noches alone, at least for a while. While it was technically true that he had not been ordered to kill the woman, she had clearly outlived her usefulness to Lord Aizen, and fighting to keep her in Hueco Mundo was, no matter how he looked at it, a violation of his orders to defend Las Noches.

But what irritated him the most was his inability to understand why he did it. It would have been simple enough to let the Shinigami take her away, even before the Quincy showed up partway through the fight. His status as Lord Aizen's most loyal Espada would have remained intact, and the greatest distraction of his life would be gone. So why hadn't he done that? He had no answer, and that both irritated and...

Frightened him. Yes. It frightened him more terribly than anything he had ever known. Even Lord Aizen's wrath could not compare with the vertiginous terror of the mysterious hold the woman exercised over him. The sturdy road beneath his feet, woven of his reiatsu, never wavered – he had more self-discipline than that – but he felt as though he were mere centimeters away from plunging into the endless abyss of the garganta. The woman squeezed his hand, just for an instant, and that feeling multiplied several times over.

"Woman," he said without looking at her, both to distract himself and because he was curious, "why did you restore the Quincy's outfit, but not mine or the Shinigami's?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide, and surveyed his uniform. From her surprised expression, this was the first time she had realized that his clothing was nearly half-destroyed. She looked away, her cheeks tinged with pink. He had seen that reaction before, most frequently when the woman drifted off into one of her fantasies, which were usually indecipherable in any case, and even more so when she only voiced the last thought in a convoluted chain of associations. That wasn't the only time she reacted that way, however, and the corners of his mouth turned marginally down as he thought about the other times he had seen it.

Ulquiorra had studied human anatomy in order to be more efficient in killing – he detested wasting energy almost as much as he detested wasting words – and while studying the circulation of blood, he discovered that it often flowed to the cheeks when humans were feeling embarrassed. It wasn't surprising that the woman would feel embarrassed to reveal how absurd her thoughts could be, but she also blushed – yes, that was the word – she also blushed when she spoke of the Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo. This behavior had puzzled him, since she didn't blush when she spoke of her other friends, and he decided to ask Szayelaporro Granz, the only Espada with scientific interests, what might be causing it.

The answer had surprised him: why would sexual excitement produce an excess of blood in the cheeks? They were not, so far as he knew, an erogenous zone. Still, he couldn't deny that it made sense; he had seen Loly and Menoly react the same way when speaking of Lord Aizen, and according to Szayelaporro, the two of them definitely had sexual feelings for him. Such feelings baffled Ulquiorra: they made sense in humans, for whom they were a key element of reproduction, but Hollows did not reproduce sexually, and thus, in Ulquiorra's mind, had no use for sexual attraction. Still, knowing that the woman felt that way about the Shinigami both puzzled and annoyed Ulquiorra: couldn't she see how much weaker he was than even low-ranking Espadas? Why would she, whose powers, as Lord Aizen put it, transgressed the boundary between human and divine, waste her time and energy on someone like that? It made no sense, and asking the woman about it directly simply made her angry enough that she refused to talk to him for an entire day. Ulquiorra wasn't pleased with that result, but he saw no way to get a more satisfactory answer, so he would have let the matter rest... but then, one week after he first brought the woman to Hueco Mundo, he was summoned to appear before Lord Aizen.

"_Ulquiorra," Lord Aizen greeted, rotating his chair to face the door as the Cuatra Espada entered the balcony on which meetings that were too small to require the throne room or conference room were held. "How is our guest doing?"_

"_When I asked her whose purposes she existed to serve, she answered without hesitation that her person and will were yours alone," Ulquiorra reported._

_Lord Aizen smiled his characteristically insouciant smile. "She doesn't mean a word of it."_

"_Exactly my conclusion. Her spirit is remarkably strong, and breaking it will require great care."_

"_Perhaps breaking is the wrong way to think of it," Aizen said, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Someone so formidable may better respond to subtler tactics."_

_Ulquiorra had never met anyone who could read people as well as Lord Aizen, and he was intrigued to hear what the ruler of Hueco Mundo might have in mind. "What tactics do you mean?"_

"_Tell me, Ulquiorra... do you have friends?"_

_He was taken aback, but kept himself carefully composed; it would not do to show surprise. He had never had friends, and Lord Aizen knew it. "My lord, I don't know why you're asking that." That wasn't strictly true; when he asked a question to which he already knew the answer, it was usually to make his subordinates figure something out for themselves. However, Ulquiorra could not begin to guess what he was supposed to figure out here._

"_I think it's time you made one. After all," he said, his ever-present smile widening slightly, "life is so empty without them." He paused, and the Espada waited patiently for him to continue. "Gain her trust, Ulquiorra. Learn to see the world through her eyes, and show her how it looks through yours." The lighthearted note had left his voice, and Ulquiorra knew that these were solemn orders, but they didn't make sense to him._

"_Why would I want to see the world through her eyes?" he asked. "Mine are better than any human's." Lord Aizen chuckled at the genuine confusion in his servant's voice and rose from his chair. He turned his back to Ulquiorra, approached the edge of the balcony, and spread his arms wide, looking up at the perpetual night sky of Hueco Mundo._

"_And yet there's a whole world out there you have never seen," he said, slipping back into a semi-facetious tone. "I believe Inoue Orihime is just the one to show it to you." Ulquiorra still didn't understand, but it wasn't the first time Lord Aizen had issued an order that made sense only to him, and they always turned out just as planned. The Cuatra Espada submerged his doubts and bowed with one arm over his torso._

"_It will be done." He turned to leave, but Lord Aizen's voice stopped him._

"_One more thing, Ulquiorra..." The Espada turned back, puzzled, to find that Lord Aizen had turned to face him. Surely he had not forgotten anything? He must have deliberately held something back, but he only did that when he wanted to put someone off-balance, and Ulquiorra could not imagine why Lord Aizen would do that to him._

"_I understand you've been asking about Orihime's blushes." In spite of his resolve, Ulquiorra's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and Lord Aizen's smile widened in response._

"_A trivial matter, my lord, not worthy of your concern."_

"_I'll be the judge of that," the ruler of Hueco Mundo responded. Though his smile didn't diminish in the slightest, his tone contained the faintest hint of reproach. Most denizens of Hueco Mundo would have winced or cowered at the implied menace of a rebuke from Lord Aizen, but Ulquiorra was confident in himself and his loyalty; he had nothing to fear. "But if I take you at your word, why would someone who holds humans in such low regard be interested in so trivial a detail?"_

_Ulquiorra stiffened, just a bit. He was consistent through and through, in thoughts, words, and deeds, and even coming from Lord Aizen, this implication that he might be acting inconsistently did not sit well with him. "She blushes when she speaks of the Shinigami, whom she regards more highly than any of her other friends. If I can destroy her faith in him, it will bring her that much closer to despairing of all of them."_

"_And any detail you can obtain regarding her feelings for him may be useful toward that end," Aizen said easily. "Even a trivial one."_

"_It is as you say."_

_Lord Aizen resumed sitting in his rotating chair with his arms on the armrests, leaned back, and closed his eyes for a moment. "My most loyal Espada... once again, my faith in you is well-placed. Go now, and make Orihime forget that there was ever a time she thought of you as an enemy."_

_Ulquiorra bowed again. "Thank you, my lord. It will be as you command."_

"Well, you see..." the woman mumbled. Ulquiorra snapped out of his reminiscences and stared at her, neither blinking nor speaking; it took him a moment to remember he had asked her about why she hadn't restored his uniform... or the Shinigami's. "I've never been as good at restoring lost reiatsu as I am at healing injuries. That outfit must be part of your reiatsu, huh?" She smiled widely at him. "Just like Kurosaki-kun's!"

Ulquiorra's jaw clenched, and he looked ahead again. So he had something in common with the Shinigami after all. He didn't like that thought in the slightest, but at least Kurosaki's arrogant assumption that Ulquiorra had become more like a human between their first and second fight was still wrong. Although that second fight had weakened both of them, Ulquiorra had much greater control over his reiatsu, and should be able to recover it much more quickly. Indeed, his outfit was already reconstituting itself, while the Shinigami's remained torn. That was good news, in case the Shinigami decided to turn against him.

"We're almost there. I can feel it," the Shinigami said. He was not too far ahead – perhaps ten meters or so – but his black robes blended with their surroundings until he almost vanished into them.

"Indeed," Ulquiorra agreed; the exit was just ahead. Again, the Shinigami's instincts proved good. That bothered Ulquiorra, and he didn't know why. He had already acknowledged that the other man was the better fighter; why should a reminder of that superiority bother him? It wasn't as though he would become stronger just by forgetting that the Shinigami had nearly killed him.

"Um, Ulquiorra-kun, you're hurting me," the woman squeaked. He loosened his grip on her hand – a grip he hadn't realized he had tightened. That was no good, he thought as the exit loomed before them; if he let himself lose control in small matters, it would not be long before he did so in crucial ones, and there was no greater sign of weakness than losing control.

He saw the pain on her face, and felt an unwelcome gnawing sensation in his stomach, as though something were eating away at it from the inside. Was her pain causing that? Ulquiorra didn't think so; he had never felt bad about hurting anyone, and saw no reason why he would start now. True, the woman puzzled, impressed, and even fascinated him, but he had fought enemies who had done the same, and felt no qualms whatsoever about hurting or killing them. Still, both the woman's pain and the gnawing were undeniable, and if the former disappeared, perhaps the latter would as well.

"You should heal it," he said, nodding toward her hand. She waved her free hand and smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, it's fine now! Just a little sore!" she said, and the gnawing diminished, but only a little. Apparently, something more would be required, and Ulquiorra searched for an answer. Perhaps it was a question of motivations. She seemed to care greatly about people's motivations – another trait Ulquiorra did not understand. Apart from knowing how to manipulate an enemy to secure an easier victory, why would anyone care about the reasons for an injury? The weak harmed the strong in order to avoid being preyed upon, and the strong harmed the weak because they could. What more was there? But the woman saw more, somehow, and even if it was an illusion, clinging to that illusion had helped her to endure Hueco Mundo. Perhaps there was something to it, after all.

"Hurting you was not my intention," he said quietly. The woman's eyes went wide, and she looked away from him without a word, blushing. Strange – she was neither daydreaming nor talking about the Shinigami, so why would she do that? That was one more question that would require his full attention once the details of his defection were worked out.

Assuming he survived it, of course.

When they emerged into the human world, the first thing Ulquiorra noticed was the residual heat in the air. It was clear that a great deal of fire had flared up on the battlefield, and only recently been extinguished. On Ulquiorra's right stood Lord Aizen, flanked by the two other Gotei 13 captains who had joined him in treason, as well as the three most powerful Espadas and their Fracciónes, loyal Arrancar servants. On Ulquiorra's left stood many of the remaining captain-class Shinigami of the Gotei 13. However, none of them were fighting, and although some of Baraggan's Fracciónes were absent, Ulquiorra could not sense any combat occurring out of sight. The initial round of battle had finished, and the second had not yet begun.

Well, there was one exception... if you could call it a battle.

"Hey, old man! Give me back my sword!" The Primera Espada, having been too powerful for any other Hollows to survive approaching him, had split himself in two with Lord Aizen's help, leaving a male half that wanted to do nothing but sleep, and a female half that had enough energy for three or four people. Lilynette Gingerbuck, the female half, was leaping from one end of a rooftop to the other, trying desperately to retrieve her sword from a white-haired Shinigami – Ukitake Jushiro, Captain of the Thirteenth Division of the Gotei 13, Ulquiorra remembered. He shook his head as he watched the girl's repetitive pratfalls. How someone as useless as her managed to be half of Lord Aizen's most powerful hybrid of Hollow and Shinigami was utterly beyond him.

Ukitake frowned at her. "I don't want you to hurt yourse-" He cut himself off as he realized, more or less simultaneously with everyone else, the new reiatsu on the battlefield. Espadas, Fracciónes, and Shinigami alike turned their attention to the newcomers.

"What's this, Aizen?" another white-haired captain, this one with a boyish appearance, asked acidly. "Didn't you have enough flunkies already?"

"I will thank you not to refer to my dear subordinates in such a rude manner," Lord Aizen answered. There was no irony in his tone. There was no need for it. Everyone present, on both sides, knew exactly how much he valued his followers. He turned his attention to Ulquiorra, never losing his calm smile. "When I said that Inoue Orihime's friends were free to take her away from Hueco Mundo, I didn't mean they could bring you along."

Ulquiorra ignored him. "For those of you who do not recognize me, I am the Cuatra Espada, Ulquiorra Cifer. I have come here to defect from Aizen's service, and help you defeat him."

He had expected an uproar at this news, but instead it was greeted with a deafening silence. The boyish, white-haired captain – Hitsugaya Toshiro of the Tenth Division – finally broke that silence.

"Why should we believe anything you say?" he asked with a scowl.

"You fear that I am a double agent, brought here to confuse you and undermine your resolve."

"Something like that," Hitsugaya answered. Ulquiorra nodded. In spite of his youthful appearance, the Tenth-Division Captain was no fool.

"Very well." Ulquiorra turned to the Shinigami's leader. "High Captain Yamamoto, would you like to know why Aizen wanted the Hougyoku?"

Yamamoto raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You address me, even though I haven't said a word against you?"

"You are the founder of the Shinigami Academy, and Captain of the First Division of the Gotei 13. Even other captains defer to your orders. You are responsible for allowing the near-elimination of the Quincy line to go unpunished. Your concerns about me take precedence over those of any other Shinigami."

Yamamoto looked at Aizen with a frown, his long white beard trailing as his head turned. "You have been surprisingly free with information."

"I find it makes treason less likely," Aizen answered, too smoothly, and turned to his servant. "Though now I am beginning to wonder. What are you doing, Ulquiorra Cifer?"

"I thought that was clear. I am defecting." Ulquiorra turned back to Yamamoto. "Aizen wanted the Hougyoku so he could create Wonderweiss, an Arrancar capable of sealing your zanpakutou's release."

"Well, well," Yamamoto said, opening one eye widely, "it seems your subordinate is proving quite troublesome."

"Yes," Aizen answered, "it does seem that way." His smile never wavered – in fact, it grew. "But appearances can be deceiving." He turned to Ulquiorra. "Congratulations, my most loyal Espada. You behaved just as planned."

Ulquiorra's mind raced. "Just as planned"? What did that mean? Did Lord Aizen think this was a ruse? No – even if he didn't explain the reasons behind his orders, he was always clear about what he expected of his subordinates, and he had given Ulquiorra no hint of any plan involving such a ruse. There were only two possibilities the Cuatra Espada could see: either Lord Aizen was lying to undermine what little credibility his traitorous subordinate might have with the Gotei 13, or...

"You had another plan all along," he said quietly.

"Just one?" Aizen shook his head in mocking reproach. "You know me better than that. Still, you are essentially correct: I told you Wonderweiss's true purpose in order to test you. And by meeting my expectations, you have failed that test."

"You're not sayin' ya _expected_ him t'betray ya?" interjected the silver-haired, fox-faced Ichimaru Gin, former Captain of the Third Division. Ulquiorra did not understand why Lord Aizen kept him around; the man positively oozed treachery.

"Do you know why I trust you, Gin?" Aizen asked, and Ichimaru shook his head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "It's because you've never been perfectly loyal to me. A subordinate who is too loyal will sooner or later be just as useless as one who is too disloyal. But if he occasionally sates his hunger for rebellion, he will feel no need to devour the first feast that offers itself." Was it Ulquiorra's imagination, or was Aizen looking at Orihime as he said that? He stepped between the two, just to be sure – and found himself looking at Kurosaki's back. Ulquiorra frowned; after the harm he had done to his friends atop the dome of Las Noches, the Shinigami had no business posturing as a protector, especially where the woman was concerned. Aizen smiled at them and turned back to Ichimaru. "I know you've been snacking, Gin. And that's how I know I can trust you."

"My, my..." Ichimaru said, shaking his head and never losing his chilling smile, "as expected of Captain Aizen, ya've seen right through me."

Aizen returned his attention to Ulquiorra. "I must apologize for putting you in such a dilemma – either you would behave unexpectedly, thereby proving yourself unreliable, or you would not, thereby proving yourself useless." His smile was, if anything, more unctuous than ever, even though Ulquiorra was sure his face had not moved at all. "Still, although I anticipated your betrayal, I was not prepared for half my Espadas to be dead when it occurred. For now, I shall retreat." He reopened the gargantas, and turned to look over his shoulder at the assembled Shinigami. "The next time I see you will be the last one."

"Lord Aizen!" Tier Harribel shouted, and he looked over his shoulder at her. "Please, grant me the honor of teaching this traitor the meaning of loyalty."

Aizen turned his face to the black gate so none of the assembled could see it, and was silent for a moment. Ulquiorra frowned. Whatever Lord Aizen might have been thinking when he looked away in silent contemplation, it was never a good sign. "That will not be necessary, Harribel," Aizen replied in the same unruffled tone he had used throughout. "He will learn it quite well on his own."

The Tres Espada's posture stiffened, but only for an instant, and then she bowed at the waist. "As you command, my lord." Without another word, she vanished through the garganta, and her Fracciónes followed her.

"As for you, Old Man Ukitake," Lilynette bellowed, pointing at herself, "remember me, Lilynette Gingerbuck, your archenemy! The wrath of a thousand years will descend upon you for stealing my sword! You will learn to fear this face!"

Ukitake smiled and tossed her sword to her. Lilynette caught it with one hand, though she fumbled about, almost dropping it, as she did so. "I could never fear such a kind face..." His expression turned serious. "...though you really must learn to respect your elders."

Lilynette responded by touching her thumb to the tip of her nose and sticking out her tongue before dashing back through the portal. Coyote Starrk, the Primera Espada's male half, looked at Ukitake and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Does she do that to everyone?" Ukitake asked, looking puzzled rather than annoyed.

"Only to people she really likes," Starrk said tiredly. Ukitake looked like he wasn't sure whether Starrk was joking or not.

"Come _on_, Starrk!" Lilynette said, leaning around the edge of the garganta as around a doorframe.

"Hey, Espada… your little sister's cute, but she's kind of pushy," said a captain who wore a straw hat and a flowery kimono. He wore an easy smile, and seemed utterly unconcerned about the terrible battle that he and his companions had just barely avoided. However, decades serving Aizen had taught Ulquiorra that a nonchalant demeanor was one of the most effective ways to conceal one's nature as a deadly opponent, and he resolved to carefully watch the colorful captain.

"Little sister, huh?" Starrk sighed. "I guess you could call her that… but we're more like twins."

"Twins?" the colorful captain, Kyoraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division, repeated with a tone that was half-curious, half-skeptical. "I never would've guessed."

"Don't take me lightly just 'cause I look like a kid," Lilynette called. "Anyway, age doesn't matter with Hollows! I'm as dangerous as any of you!"

"Is that right? I'll have to remember that," Kyoraku answered, tipping the brim of his hat in what might have been a farewell gesture. Lilynette snorted, ducking back behind the edge of the garganta, and Starrk shrugged apologetically before following his other half through the gate. The Segunda Espada, Barragan Luisenbairn, and his Fracciónes had already disappeared; the only remaining Hueco Mundo forces were the three traitorous captains. Aizen exited first, closely followed by Tousen Kaname, former Captain of the Ninth Division, and Ichimaru took the time to facetiously salute the assembled Shinigami before he, too, vanished, and all the gargantas closed.

The Shinigami looked around at each other. Most of them seemed relieved that Aizen had retreated without personally entering the fray, though Hitsugaya looked angry as well, and they all looked confused about the reasons behind what had just happened.

"Well," said Kyoraku, as he looked at Ulquiorra, "It seems we need to figure out what to do about our newest ally."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: I hope to be posting at least once every two weeks. If I do more than that, gravy; if I do less, blame real life, that inveterate intruder upon fantasy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note**: The plot begins to thicken here, and it is EPIC. (Epicness not guaranteed. In clinical trials, epicness was achieved in roughly 73% of cases. Epicness should not be taken by people with heart conditions, or people who are experiencing or may experience epic fail. Side effects may include headache, fever, dizziness, loss of breath, and the desire to shout random Japanese phrases at the top of your lungs. Talk to your doctor to find out if epicness is right for you). Isn't it time you made epicness a part your life?

On a more serious note, summerrayah's review of February 8th brings up a point I would like to address. Harribel may not be as loyal to Aizen as I have portrayed her – in fact, in _Bleach_ canon, I suspect she isn't. However, this story began diverging from canon the moment Orihime healed Ulquiorra, and it will continue to do so right up to the very end; the characters will, I hope, start out recognizable, but they may develop in ways that make them almost unrecognizable. I don't plan on such developments happening, but as long as they are plausible and help the story, I won't try to avoid them, either.

Regarding Harribel specifically, I see her as someone who, sheer power notwithstanding, knows exactly how precarious is her position in the Espadas when surrounded by the likes of Nnoitra and Yammy and Szayelaporro, and who consequently has learned to seize opportunities when they arise. With Ulquiorra's defection, someone else will have to fill the role of Aizen's most loyal Espada, if only by default – and, Harribel thinks, why not me? Not to say that her offer was a false one; she would have gladly killed Ulquiorra if ordered to, but she decided that showing a little initiative on the matter couldn't hurt, as long as she didn't go behind Aizen's back – or over his head. (In Soviet Hueco Mundo, shark jumps _you_). Whether or not I have changed anyone's mind on this point, thinking about it has helped me clarify some matters for myself, and I appreciate summerrayah's bringing it to my attention.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Kubo Tite and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_There_ was the uproar Ulquiorra expected. He knew every one of their faces and names from Lord Aizen's mission briefings, but this was the first time he had heard most of the assembled Shinigami speak. Even though only six of the thirteen – or ten – captains were there, they still managed to make an impressive noise, and that was before taking their lieutenants into account. Finally, Yamamoto silenced them by pounding his cane against the reiatsu platform under his feet.

"Captain Kyoraku is right. We have a decision to make, and you are not some rabble of whelps, fresh out of the Academy. You are Captain-class Shinigami of the Gotei 13, and you will act like it." The Shinigami looked at each other, evidently hesitant to speak first after such a pointed rebuke. Finally, the captain with the straw hat, Kyoraku Shunsui of the Eighth Division, spoke up.

"Well, since I'm the one who raised this matter, guess I should be the one to speak my mind first." His face was half-hidden by his ridiculous hat, but his voice was strong and his words clear. "I don't like fighting if I don't have to, and this Hollow has just saved us from a very nasty fight. I say we give him a chance."

"I'm with Kyoraku," Ukitake said. "While it would be a mistake to trust him, it would be a greater mistake to turn away any help we can get against Aizen, especially if it weakens Aizen's forces at the same time."

Soi Fon, Captain of the Second Division, who was missing her left arm, glared silently at Ulquiorra, as did Hitsugaya. Finally, a lupine-looking captain, Komamura Sajin of the Seventh Division, broke the silence.

"You cannot seriously be considering this. Soul Society aligning itself with a Hollow? It goes against everything we stand for! What's next – every one of us becoming part Hollow?"

"And why not?" said a new voice from behind Ulquiorra. Everyone turned to see a group of eight eccentrically-dressed zanpakutou-wielding individuals. Their leader, a blond man with a pageboy haircut and a grin that looked a great deal like Nnoitra's, shrugged his shoulders. "Ya oughta try it some time, Captain Komamura. Might loosen ya up a bit."

"Hirako Shinji," Yamamoto said. A simple name, nothing more, though the somber, sonorous tones he used made it sound like a death sentence. "So you were indeed hiding yourselves in the human world. What brings your group here?"

Hirako shook his head sadly, but his smile didn't falter. "Well, High Captain-san, ta tell the truth... ya hurt our feelings. When we heard you were havin' a shindig with all yer friends from Hueco Mundo, we couldn't wait ta get our invite... only it never came. So we thought we'd show up anyway – maybe the hell butterfly got lost on its way ta us, y'know? But when we get here, whadda we find but a lil' ol' barrier, tryin' ta keep us out?" He inclined his head so his eyes were just barely concealed under the brim of his cap. "If I didn't know better, I'd think ya didn't want us here."

Sasakibe Chojiro, the Lieutenant of the First Division, flash-stepped a few paces behind Hirako and went to one knee before Yamamoto. "My humblest apologies. I let them pass before I realized that Aizen and his forces had retreated."

"I see," Yamamoto replied, turning his attention to the new arrival. "It appears your efforts will not be required."

"Well, now, that's where we differ." Hirako turned to Ulquiorra, laying a hand on the hilt of his zanpakutou. "We may have missed the main event, but it seems we're still in time for the side show."

"I know you," Ulquiorra answered. "Aizen occasionally spoke of his first experiments in joining Hollows and Shinigami. You call yourselves 'the Visored,' because you think of your Hollow natures as something that can be removed as easily as a visor."

"Well, well... seems ya've heard of us. You're wrong about one thing, though. We don't think of our Hollow natures as something that can be removed. We just learned how ta control 'em." Hirako's smile broadened in a way that Ulquiorra did not like. "And we don't take kindly ta people who haven't."

* * *

><p><em>This is bad<em>, Orihime thought. Once again, she had to step in and calm things down before Ulquiorra could get into a fight that could very well get him killed.

"Hirako-san!" she called, stepping forward and waving her hand at him. He looked at her in surprise, as if just noticing she was there.

"Well, if it isn't my first love," he said with a bow. The short, pigtailed girl standing beside him kicked him in the shins, and he grabbed his leg in pain. "Ow ow ow... what was that for?"

"Dumbass," the girl growled at him. "Don't just go sayin' things like that ta every girl ya meet! I'll shave yer head, and then you'll really be a baldy!"

"Such harsh words from my first love," Hirako-san whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, before straightening up. "What brings yer smilin' face here, Orihime-chan?"

"Well..." she paused, grasping around for the right words, "Ulquiorra-kun brought me here!" She nodded toward the former Espada, who didn't react. Hirako-san raised an eyebrow. "You see, after Kurosaki-kun defeated him, he had no place left in Hueco Mundo, and while I was a prisoner there, he was my keeper, and he became really interested in humans and wants to learn more about us and I know he seems cold and cruel but he's really nice if you get to know him and... and..." Hirako-san gaped at her wide-eyed, and she trailed off and looked down, blushing. How in the world could she defend Ulquiorra-kun if all she could do was babble like this? She gathered her resolve and looked up at Hirako-san with an expression both firm and plaintive. "I believe in him, and I believe he deserves a chance to prove he can be a good person."

Shinji stood silently, and his smile slowly crept back onto his face. "Well, well... one of Aizen's servants, gaining the trust of our dear Orihime-chan?" He turned to Ulquiorra-kun. "What did you say to her, I wonder?"

"She is right here," Ulquiorra-kun answered. "She can speak for herself." Orihime blushed again at his words, and Hirako-san, seeing her embarrassment, shook his head.

"Well, no need to go pryin' around in a lady's personal life, eh? If Orihime-chan believes in ya, that's enough fer me to give you a chance. Besides..." he said, glancing at Yamamoto-san, "we know a thing or two about not havin' a place in the world."

"Ah," said yet another new voice, "such compassion! You truly are a credit to your kind, Hirako-san." The assembled crowd turned to find Urahara Kisuke-san and Shihouin Yoruichi-san. Urahara-san looked around and fanned himself, smiling broadly. "My, my... for an empty town, this place sure is lively!"

"Urahara-san... what brings you here?" Hirako-san asked.

"The same as you, I'm sure. I heard Aizen was going to be here, and..." He hid his eyes beneath the brim of his hat. "I couldn't wait to get his autograph."

* * *

><p>"I thought you of all people would know better than to speak so lightly of Aizen, Urahara Kisuke," Ulquiorra intoned.<p>

Urahara turned his attention to Ulquiorra, and his smile, though it remained, was somewhat diminished. "And I thought you of all people would know better than to turn against him, Number Four-san."

"Tch... just how long was that guy standing there?" Kurosaki muttered.

"I have seen the power of the substitute Shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo, for myself. I now have reason to believe that Aizen will lose his war with Soul Society," Ulquiorra responded. "I have no wish to be on the losing side."

"Hey, old man!" yelled a voice from below. Yamamoto and the rest of the crowd looked down to see Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of the Eleventh Division, with a pink-haired blob that could only be his lieutenant, Kusajishi Yachiru, riding on his shoulder, and flanking them were the captains and lieutenants of the Fourth, Sixth, and Twelfth Divisions. "If this Hollow wants to join us, I say we make him fight for the privilege!"

"Yay! Ken-chan can have lots of fun with the Hollow man!" Kusajishi proclaimed.

"Ridiculous," said the Sixth Division Captain, Kuchiki Byakuya, looking down in contemplation, without even sparing a glance at Zaraki. "Allow a Hollow to fight alongside Soul Society? It would leave a stain on our honor that the Sea of Japan could not wash clean." He fixed his gaze on Ulquiorra. "The Hollow has no allies, while we have the combined might of every remaining captain of the Gotei 13. We will never have a better chance to eliminate Aizen's fourth-most-powerful slave."

"Damn right, Captain!" Kuchiki's lieutenant, the hot-headed Abarai Renji, exclaimed with a grin, one hand already on his sword. "Let's show this bastard what we're made of!"

"What an idiot," the Twelfth Division Captain, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, said calmly. The smile he directed at Ulquiorra was broad, but without a trace of warmth. "The closer he is to us when he fights, the easier he'll be to retrieve for dissection."

"Well, now," Urahara said, counting on his fingers, "that makes four votes in favor of letting Ulquiorra-san stay, and two against."

The Fourth Division Captain, Unohana Retsu, looked up at Ulquiorra with closed eyes and a warm smile. "I believe in giving people the benefit of the doubt, so long as any doubt remains." She paused, and although her expression didn't change, her voice went from calm and kind to calm and dangerous. "Where Hollows are concerned, no doubt remains."

"There is no way I'm letting this reminder of Aizen pollute Karakura Town with his presence," Hitsugaya said, his voice as cold as his bankai.

"Four to four," Urahara smiled, fanning himself. Yamamoto looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't imagine you came here just to count votes."

"Are you asking for my opinion, High Captain-san?" the shopkeeper asked with overdone innocence.

"I suspect you'll offer it regardless," Yamamoto replied in a drier tone than usual. Urahara laughed.

"My, my... who knew the always-serious High Captain of the Gotei 13 had a sense of humor?" He paused, but if he was waiting for a laugh from Yamamoto, it never came. "Well, here's what I think: this defection is almost certainly a trap." Urahara smiled and covered his face with his fan. "And that's why I recommend letting it happen."

Soi Fon narrowed her eyes at Urahara. "Explain yourself, exile."

"Such harsh words!" Urahara said, feigning injury for a moment before his smile reasserted itself, more enigmatic than before. "Well, Special Forces Commander-san, you should know better than anyone else that the greatest danger of going out of your way to avoid an obvious trap..."

"...is stepping on one of the dozen traps hidden all around it," Shihouin finished. "I taught that to someone a while back – or at least I thought I did." Soi Fon reddened and looked away from her. So she had failed to heed a critical lesson from her predecessor. Ulquiorra shook his head. His defection was no trap, of course, but if this was the caliber of strategic thinking that he could expect from the Special Forces Commander, Aizen's treason suddenly made more sense.

"Can I take that as a vote in favor of letting him stay, Commander-san?" Urahara asked, with just a trace of irony. Soi Fon regained her composure and nodded firmly.

"Forgive me, Lady Yoruichi," she said. "I will better remember your lessons in the future."

Urahara looked at Yamamoto. "That just leaves you, High Captain-san."

"Am I to understand that you are volunteering to take responsibility for him?" Yamamoto responded.

"Well, I do have a tendency to collect strays," Urahara said lightly, and held his shin as Shihouin kicked him. The High Captain stared silently at Urahara for a long time, and Urahara held his gaze. Finally, he spoke, and though his answer was directed at the shopkeeper, it was addressed to all his underlings.

"Your reasoning is sound. Even if this is a trap, it would be more dangerous to try to avoid it." He turned his attention to Ulquiorra. "Until further notice, you will remain in the human world, under the supervision of Urahara Kisuke. You will surrender your zanpakutou to him, and he will provide you with a gigai in which to reside, one that will completely seal your spiritual energy and all the powers it provides." He paused to make sure he had Ulquiorra's full attention. "If you harm a single human, your life will be forfeit."

"It was not my intent to harm any humans," Ulquiorra replied. Kurosaki snorted. "Having lost to Kurosaki Ichigo, I have no place in Hueco Mundo anymore. I assume the same would be true of Soul Society." He looked around at the assembled soldiers, and took their utter silence for assent. "Perhaps I will find a place in the human world, " he concluded, and tossed his zanpakutou, along with its scabbard, to Urahara.

"Well, now," Urahara said, rubbing his hands together, "come along, Ulquiorra-san! We've got to get you fixed up with a gigai!" He turned around and started walking away, talking quickly and enthusiastically. "You'll get the newest model, with all the latest features – it might even suppress your hunger for souls!"

Ulquiorra, who had been following the shopkeeper, stopped. "'_Might_'?" Urahara turned and smiled broadly at him.

"Well, I can't be sure. You're the first Hollow I've ever hosted!" He kept walking, and Ulquiorra followed him, feeling the hostile stares on his back, and wondering whether he had just leapt headfirst out of the frying pan and into the fire.

* * *

><p>Orihime watched Ulquiorra-kun go with a growing feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Komamura-san was glaring at Yamamoto-san with such heat that she was surprised the air didn't ignite.<p>

"High Captain... forgive me for speaking so boldly, but what in the world are you doing?"

"It's just as I said," Yamamoto answered. "At this point, the only thing more dangerous than letting him live would be killing him." He turned to Kurosaki-kun. "However, I doubt that was true when you decided to let him live."

"I didn't _let_ him live!" Kurosaki-kun blurted.

"Then how did he survive?" Byakuya-san asked. Kurosaki-kun smacked himself on the forehead, but the damage was done. Of course his statement had raised more questions than it answered. Orihime stepped forward.

"It was... my doing," she said. Her voice was quiet, but the silence was thick enough to cut with a knife, and all eyes turned to her. She began shaking, but kept talking. She had to, for Kurosaki-kun's sake, and maybe for Ulquiorra-kun's as well. "Kurosaki-kun killed him – he was falling apart, turning to ash before our eyes – but I healed him."

"You healed a Hollow?" Byakuya-san asked. His voice was as cold as ever, but there was a hint of curiosity to it, as though her response were so utterly unexpected that, in spite of his anger, he was genuinely intrigued.

"I believe... that Ulquiorra-kun is a good person," she answered, "and that he just needs a chance to prove it."

Byakuya-san closed his eyes. "Ridiculous."

"Well, I wonder..." Kyoraku-san said. "We've been going on the assumption that this is a trap, but what if it's not?" He smiled at Orihime. "Orihime-chan's a good person, and if there are any mind-control kidou on her, I don't sense them. We suspected from the beginning that she didn't go to Aizen willingly, and his own words just confirmed that."

"Kyoraku-san..." Orihime said. She hadn't expected him to speak up for her.

"Tch... Nanao'd better watch out," Rangiku-san said dryly. "Captain Kyoraku's found a new favorite girl."

"So cruel," Kyoraku replied, smiling. Rangiku-san ignored him and put her arm around Orihime.

"Come on, Orihime. I don't know what's going on with you and that Hollow, but we can talk all about it over ice cream."

"D-don't say things like that, Rangiku-san! There's nothing going on!" She blushed and looked down. "I just... think he should have a chance to prove he's a good person."

Rangiku-san laughed and patted her shoulder enthusiastically. "Like I said, we can talk all about it." She turned to Toshiro-kun. "You coming, Captain?"

"No," he said, looking into the distance. "I'll be following Urahara. Even two former captains might not be enough to stop him if this does turn out to be a trap."

Orihime's face fell. She knew Toshiro-kun was always serious – too much, she thought, though she couldn't deny it was cute and funny – but she had hoped he would at least give Ulquiorra-kun a chance. Well, maybe Rangiku-san could talk to him later. As she walked away with her best friend in the Gotei 13, Orihime's mind was far away, in a humble neighborhood candy store.

_Be safe, Ulquiorra-kun_.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Man, this chapter was crowded. I'm trying not to leave anyone out, but I have a new appreciation for how difficult it must be for Kubo to keep them all in mind, let alone to try and work them all into the story. Normally, the cast will be more manageable than this.

That said, partly because the cast is so large, I have some trouble keeping track of how they all address each other. Sometimes there are deliberate changes, but, at the risk of sounding like a tautological meme, deliberate changes are deliberate, designed to reveal things about a character's state of mind, or the effect she hopes to have on the person or people she's talking to, or what-have-you. If you see any outright mistaken forms of address being used consistently, however, I would appreciate it if you let me know. (The same goes for the finer points of _Bleach_ lore and for mistakes in Spanish, which I will be doing my best to correct). Please keep such notices confined to private messages, however; that way, we can keep the review space focused more on substantial matters, and less on relatively trivial ones.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note**: This chapter, though less crowded than the previous one, took me longer to write. Or perhaps it took longer _because_ it was less crowded – as the focus narrowed, I had to devote that much more attention to the motivations and thoughts of each character. Swimming for the depths almost always requires more effort than circling the perimeter.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

After the Gotei 13 destroyed the pillars and transported Karakura Town back into the human world, Ulquiorra, hands in his pockets, followed the shopkeeper and the shapeshifter to their home in silence. He felt something strange, like an itch at the back of his neck, and looked over his shoulder. There was nothing there, but even so...

"We are being followed," he said, and the Shinigami in front of him stopped.

"Indeed?" the shopkeeper answered, too lightly.

"You know who it is," he answered flatly.

"You sound quite certain about that." He smiled, and Ulquiorra didn't trust it one bit.

"Even though you're holding my sword, only captain-class Shinigami would dare to trail me. With the return of the Shinigami who were trapped in Hueco Mundo, that leaves twenty-three potential followers. As a former captain, I have no doubt you can recognize this reiatsu, even through that person's attempt to conceal it." He paused. "Or rather, to make us think he wants to conceal it."

The shapeshifter raised an eyebrow. "You think he's really not trying?"

"Even the Gotei 13 could not fail so thoroughly to train their captain-classes in stealth tactics."

"Oh? And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, baring her teeth in what might have been a smile, or a threat. Ulquiorra stared at her impassively.

"Shihouin Yoruichi, former Captain of the Second Division-"

"I didn't ask for my name and rank."

"-and former Commander of the Special Forces," Ulquiorra continued as though she hadn't spoken. "In that latter capacity, you must have realized how utterly lacking in subtlety the Gotei 13 are. Did that knowledge never aggravate you?"

She glared at him for a long moment before breaking into laughter. "Yeah, you got me there. We do like to show off, don't we?"

Ulquiorra resumed walking. They had spent enough time standing around already. It was obvious the shopkeeper was not going to identify their tail, but whoever he was, he would either reveal himself, in which case Ulquiorra would deal with him, or he would not, in which case he was a mere irritant... and Ulquiorra was quite skilled at ignoring things that irritated him. The Shinigami looked at him, and then at each other, before hurrying to catch up with him. Though they didn't speak, the last thing the shapeshifter had said echoed through his mind.

"You refer to them as 'we,'" he said without preamble. She looked at him in surprise, but he stared straight ahead. "You speak as though you were still one of them. Why?"

From the corner of his eye, he could see her smile; it was a smile that promised mischief, very much like the one the shopkeeper enjoyed hiding behind his fan. "I thought you said you were only interested in humans. Can I take this question about Shinigami matters as a sign that you've broadened your horizons?"

"I never said I was interested in humans," Ulquiorra responded quickly, and frowned. He hated hurrying a conversation – or anything else, for that matter. So why had he rushed to answer that question? Whatever the reasons, he didn't like it any more than he liked the knowing glint in the shapeshifter's eyes.

"Of course not. You just think you can find a place in their world when no other world will have you." Ulquiorra's face didn't change, but his hands clenched into fists inside his pockets.

"That's strange to hear from one who is herself an exile." When she didn't react, Ulquiorra pressed on. He hated repeating himself, but he'd come to realize that sometimes it was necessary, especially when talking to trash, so he turned to her and fixed his gaze on her. "I ask again: why do you speak as though you were still one of them?"

For the first time, he saw a hint of challenge in her eyes. "Why do you speak as though you're still in charge?"

Ulquiorra blinked. "'In charge'?"

"Always giving orders. Never questioning yourself. Never asking for anyone else's thoughts."

"That's how I talk."

"Well, shut up, then."

"'Shut up'?" Ulquiorra said, dangerously calm. "No one talks to me like that."

"If you keep being a jackass, they're gonna start," the shapeshifter said, not smiling.

"I see... it seems as though you've fallen under the impression that I lost all my powers when I surrendered my sword." Ulquiorra removed his hands from his pockets. "It also seems that you need a lesson in how false that impression is."

The grin returned to the shapeshifter's face. "I would love to see you try." The shopkeeper cleared his throat, and she looked in his direction. "Stay out of this, Kisuke. This arrogant bastard has been begging to get taken down a peg or two."

The shopkeeper raised his hands and waved. "Okay, okay! You can have your one-on-one."

"Make that two-on-one," a new voice said. Ulquiorra turned to find the boy captain, Hitsugaya. So he was the one following them. Now that he was no longer concealing his reiatsu, Ulquiorra recognized it easily. The boy glared at him with undisguised hatred and hefted his sword. "You know why the High Captain didn't say that harming a Shinigami would be the death of you?" the boy asked. Ulquiorra didn't respond. "He didn't have to."

"Hitsugaya Toshiro of the Tenth Division," Ulquiorra said, "I look forward to testing your strength."

"One good reason, Hollow," the boy said in a dangerously controlled tone. "Give me one good reason, and you'll see all of my strength."

"I am curious," Ulquiorra answered, "what do you think of this exile's speaking as though she were one of you?" The boy looked at the shapeshifter.

"Before Aizen's treason, I would have been much more troubled by it. Since then, however, I've learned what it means to be loyal."

"But you don't know what it means to be an exile," the shapeshifter said quietly.

"No, I don't." To his credit, the boy held her gaze. "Because of my strength, Soul Society called me a prodigy. Because of my strength, they accepted me where most people would've feared me." He turned his attention to Ulquiorra. "But if there's one thing Aizen's betrayal taught me, it's that there's more to being a captain than strength. Old ties, long forgotten, can be renewed when a common enemy arises." He looked back at the shapeshifter. "But you didn't need a common enemy to remember your ties to Soul Society. Whatever anyone else may say, I'm glad you think of yourself as one of us."

The shapeshifter grinned wryly. "Well, I appreciate that, but don't get me wrong – I don't usually think of myself as anything but myself."

"Grasping at any show of loyalty you can get..." Ulquiorra said. "I see... you're trying to console yourself for Hinamori's uncertain loyalty."

The boy captain froze in place and lowered his head, hiding his eyes with his hair.

"Hollow... I'm going to say this once." His voice was, if anything, even colder than it had been when he rejected Ulquiorra's presence in the human world. "If you mention her name in my presence again, I'll kill you."

"You would raise a hand against me without a reason?" Ulquiorra was genuinely surprised. Perhaps the boy was a fool after all.

"Reason's got nothing to do with it. A monster like you has no right to speak her name." He raised his head, and his icy eyes reminded Ulquiorra of Grimmjow's, during one of the Sexta's more-enraged-than-usual moments. "And if you go near her, you'll be dead before you know I'm there."

Something tugged at the back of Ulquiorra's mind, and an image of gray eyes flashed before his emerald ones. "This unshakable determination to protect... I've seen it before. This is the heart the woman spoke of." He turned to the shopkeeper and the shapeshifter. "Does it always provoke such grandiosity?"

The shopkeeper held his fan in front of his face; no doubt he was grinning like a fool behind it. "Well, I wouldn't say 'always,' but don't you think it's sweet?"

"I don't see how rejecting reason in favor of suicidal gestures could be called sweet," Ulquiorra answered. The shopkeeper waved his fan up and down in front of him. Ulquiorra had been wrong: he wasn't grinning like a fool.

He was grinning like a complete fool.

"Clearly, you don't understand the beauty of a young man's heart!" He leaned toward the shapeshifter's cheek, puckering his lips in what Ulquiorra recognized as a prelude to a kiss. She put her palm on his forehead and held him back without even looking at him. Good; at least _she_ was consistently displaying good sense... apart from telling him to shut up, of course.

"I don't see any young men here," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Yoruichi... how can you be so cruel as to refuse my love?" he cried, reaching out with open arms.

"Don't say stuff that can be so easily misunderstood!" As the two of them went back and forth, the boy captain muttered under his breath; the few parts Ulquiorra could hear suggested that the parts he couldn't hear were anything but complimentary.

"You're right," Ulquiorra said. His voice was quiet but clear, and it cut through the chatter, stopping it cold. He looked directly at the shopkeeper. "The heart makes no sense to me. That's one of the reasons I'm staying in the human world." For a moment, all was silent. The three Shinigami stared at him.

"So you're here to collect psychological research," the boy captain said. "What's Aizen planning, then? His shikai works whether or not he understands how people think."

"As I said, I am defecting from Aizen's service. I want to solve the mystery of the heart for myself." Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes slightly. "Did I not make myself clear? Or do I have the face of a liar?"

"What you have is a gaping hole in your chest, where that thing you claim to want to understand should be," the boy said flatly. He came within half-a-meter of Ulquiorra and glared up at him. "Let's get one thing straight: I will never trust you."

Ulquiorra returned his gaze unflinchingly. "That much is clear." With that, he turned back to the shopkeeper and shapeshifter. "Lead the way."

And they walked the rest of the way in a strained silence.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Orihime and Rangiku-san made their way to Orihime's apartment. Since she was going to be there for a while, she would stop by Urahara-san's shop in the morning to pick up a gigai; that way, humans could talk to her without getting funny looks. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun!" Rangiku-san sang out as she danced down the street. "I managed to sneak some of the Captain's private sake into this world so we could celebrate our victory properly!"<p>

Orihime looked up at her friend and smiled nervously. "Uh, Rangiku-san, you know I'm not old enough to drink..."

"Oh, come now! Your boyfriend just sent Aizen running off with his tail between his legs! That's got to be worth celebrating, right?"

"Even so, I can't... wait, _boyfriend_?" She waved her hands frantically. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Rangiku-san smiled broadly at her. "You called him 'Ulquiorra-kun.' You said he was a good person. And unless I'm badly mistaken, it was his reiatsu holding you in midair."

"I-It's not like that!" Orihime continued, deeply flustered.

"Good," Rangiku-san said, her dance halting and her smile vanishing. "I was afraid you had completely lost your senses."

"Rangiku-san..."

"Listen to me, Orihime. Whatever kindness he may have showed you, it was all fake. Hollows don't have compassion. They don't have friends. And they sure as hell don't feel love." She wrapped her arm around Orihime and hugged her close. "You're home now. You're safe. We're going to get whatever information we can from that Hollow, and the instant he puts one toe out of line, we'll finish him off. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

Orihime held back tears. If even her best friend in Soul Society didn't believe her, who would? One more person she cared about was going to get hurt, because she couldn't do anything to help him...

No. No more giving into despair. Orihime pushed away from her friend and looked up at her firmly. Rangiku-san looked surprised.

"You're wrong, Rangiku-san. He _is_ a good person – all he needs is a chance to prove it. You'll see. And I'm sorry, but if you can't accept that, I would rather be alone tonight." To prove her point, she extracted herself from her friend's arms and resumed walking toward her apartment. After a few seconds, Rangiku-san called to her.

"Orihime..." The girl turned, and saw her friend was smiling sadly. "I'm sorry. I won't lie to you and say that I trust this guy, but for your sake I'll give him a chance."

"Thank you, Rangiku-san!" Orihime beamed and hugged her friend tightly. "Thank you so much... I was afraid he wouldn't even get that much." She looked up at her friend in puzzlement. "But... why did you change your mind so easily?"

Rangiku-san laughed and scratched the back of her neck. "Well, I guess there's two reasons. First, I didn't really know until now just how strongly you felt about the matter. Second..." she looked away wistfully, "I'm no stranger to believing in someone when no one else does." Her smile reasserted itself. "But seriously," she said as she resumed walking with her arm around Orihime, "what _did_ he say to you? I mean, you're easy-going and all, but I doubt that even you would just make friends with a Hollow out of the blue."

Orihime smiled nervously. "Um, why don't we save that for when we get to my apartment? I'm already getting funny looks for talking to you."

"Ah, right, sorry! I forget sometimes how few people can see me like this!"

And they walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: "Parallel lines: different starting points, but the same trajectory."

"But doesn't that mean they'll never intersect?"

"Not so long as they are measured by the eyes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note**: Ulquiorra begins to settle into his new life, and Orihime tells Matsumoto her reasons for believing that Ulquiorra deserved a second chance.

To my reviewers: thank you very much – being added to favorite lists and alert lists is flattering in its own right, but a detailed review is one of the best incentives to keep publishing in this format. Of course, a good review is preferable, and I'm gratified that all the reviews so far have been good, but even a critical one can be useful if it is detailed and specific. In either case, a special thanks to whitebengal14, the first reader to review all four chapters so far – in a single day, no less. As for your request, I will try to write longer chapters in the future (and in fact, this one is the longest yet), but it's difficult when one of my main characters could give a fencepost lessons in being taciturn.

Regarding characterization: while I am pleased that my portrayal of Ulquiorra has been so well received, I never had much anxiety about being able to write him effectively. If anything, I'm concerned that the rest of the cast may end up sounding too much like him. I believe I've resisted that temptation so far, but please let me know if I begin succumbing to it as the story continues.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Kubo Tite and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

It was mid-afternoon when Ulquiorra and the three Shinigami accompanying him arrived at what seemed to be a simple neighborhood candy store. "Well, here we are," the shopkeeper said, opening the door and turning on the light. Ulquiorra was less than impressed.

"There is no place to sleep." The shopkeeper and the shapeshifter turned to look at him. They both seemed surprised, although Ulquiorra couldn't imagine why. Although he'd had a bare existence in Hueco Mundo, this domicile was unacceptable even by his standards. True, there were several shelves stocked with what appeared to be provisions, but even so, there was no place to sleep. Even the woman, when she was a prisoner, had a couch to sleep on.

"Well, we sleep on the floor!" the shopkeeper said brightly. Ulquiorra looked at him skeptically. They couldn't be satisfied with such a low standard of living... right? Surely not.

"Even in Las Noches, we had beds."

The shopkeeper raised the fan to his face. "Well, I guess you'll have to endure a loss in quality of life now that you've defected!"

"I see..." Ulquiorra nodded. He had certainly slept in worse conditions. At least here he could be sure that he would not awaken in the jaws of a suicidally overconfident Gillian; he'd picked pieces of Gillian out of his hair for weeks after that. He fixed his gaze on the far corner to his right. "That corner will suffice." He lay down there and rested his head on his hands, staring up at the colorfully wrapped chocolates on the shelves above him. Again, he saw a fleeting image of gray eyes. The woman had often mentioned her love of chocolate.

Yes, this corner would suffice.

"I can't believe he fell for it!" the shopkeeper whispered, snickering with the shapeshifter. It seemed he either didn't realize how keen Ulquiorra's ears were, or wanted Ulquiorra to hear him. In either case, the former Espada sat up and glared at him, which only caused both shopkeeper and shapeshifter to go from snickering to laughing.

"I am to be granted proper living quarters, then?" he asked. For some reason, this only made the Shinigami laugh harder, until tears were streaming from their eyes. The boy captain, meanwhile, remained as dour as ever. At least he had the dignity to refrain from this excessive and inexplicable mirth. Finally, the shopkeeper managed to calm himself down, wiping his eyes and smiling at Ulquiorra.

"Yes, yes, you'll get a room all to yourself, with a bed and everything!" he said, prompting another round of laughter from the shifter just as she seemed to be bringing herself under control. Ulquiorra frowned. Hopefully he would not be assigned the room next to hers; if such outbreaks were routine for her, he could easily see them testing even his capacity to ignore irritants. The shopkeeper walked up and stood over him, looking down. Most of his face was hidden in shadow, with only one eye visible. "But before that, let's get you fixed up with a gigai."

Ulquiorra stood. "That will be satisfactory." The shopkeeper nodded and lead him through a door behind the counter. A maze of boxes, mostly cardboard with a few wooden ones, greeted them. The boxes were stacked up over their heads, and some stacks reached nearly to the ceiling. Ulquiorra stared. "This arrangement seems unstable."

The shopkeeper laughed, sounding embarrassed. "Yeah... I've been meaning to rearrange things back here, but I never seem to have the time." Ulquiorra frowned.

"Have you no underlings to handle such menial tasks?" From behind him, a new voice spoke up. It sounded angry.

"'Underlings'?" Ulquiorra turned to find a boy with improbably red hair and a sour look on his face. He thrust his chest out and pointed at it with his thumb. "That's no way to address Karakura Town's mighty and beloved Hanakari Jinta! Take this: Jintaaaa Fastbaaaall Speciaaaal!" From out of nowhere, so far as Ulquiorra could discern, the boy produced a small, spherical object and lobbed it at Ulquiorra's torso at great speed. It bounced off his stomach, and Ulquiorra's eyes widened. Even through his hierro, he'd felt that impact – only a little, but even that was unexpected. He glared at the boy.

"Your reiatsu... it's different from a Shinigami's. What are you?" he asked suspiciously. The boy, flabbergasted at the failure of his attack, recovered from the shock and crossed his arms.

"What am I? Tch... you've got a lot of nerve to address my exalted presence like that!" Suddenly, he fell flat on his face, flailing his arms, and in his place stood a short, shy-looking, black-haired girl. She kept her head half-lowered, as though she were perpetually entering or leaving a bow, and raised her eyes to look at Ulquiorra.

"I'm very sorry for Jinta-kun's rudeness. He can be a complete idiot at times." Ulquiorra was struck by how sharply her polite tone and humble demeanor contrasted with her cutting words. The idiot, Jinta, rubbed his head and glared up at her.

"What's with bad-mouthing me like that, Ururu?"

"You were being rude to our guest, Jinta-kun. The manager has scolded you for that before," the girl responded.

"Yeah, but he never pushed me on my face!"

The girl nodded. "That may have been excessive. Please forgive me." She bowed to the idiot with her hands on her knees, and the boy grunted in response.

"My, aren't you two lively today!" the shopkeeper smiled before resuming his trek through the maze. Ulquiorra followed him, perfectly content to let the children bicker with each other somewhere out of earshot... so naturally they both followed him. Ulquiorra briefly wondered whether the idiot was covered by the prohibition on killing Shinigami – after all, he clearly wasn't one of them. But although he wasn't overly familiar with human customs of hospitality, he was reasonably sure that it was considered bad manners to kill one's host.

Even if he was an annoying brat.

"Right, here we are!" the shopkeeper said brightly, opening another door. Ulquiorra entered the room and stared, frozen, at the sight that greeted him. There, propped up against the wall in sitting positions, were gigai modeled on each of the Espadas. That wasn't the detail that most disturbed him, however: each of them was dressed in Shinigami robes.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said quietly. The shopkeeper smiled crookedly.

"I was counting on Aizen alienating at least one of you."

Ulquiorra stared at him in disbelief. "You planned for this?"

"Well, I'd call it more of a hope than a plan, but I did figure that if anyone could be too cruel and manipulative for Hollows to tolerate him, it would be Aizen. And the closer you get to him, the more likely that possibility becomes."

"It seems you know him well." The shopkeeper's smile faded.

"We have our history," he said, and turned to the Ulquiorra gigai.

The former Espada examined his new body. He was struck by the accuracy of the design: the skin was an ordinary human tone rather than bone-white, there were no green marks on his face, and of course there was no helmet, but apart from that, it was an exact match. Even the lineaments of his muscles were correct, and Ulquiorra suddenly felt uneasy. "Your intelligence capabilities appear to be more formidable than I anticipated. The level of detail here is... considerable."

The shopkeeper knelt down and raised the gigai to a standing position, inspecting it carefully. "Consider it payback for making sure Orihime-chan's outfit fit her so well."

Ulquiorra's hands tightened into fists. "That is none of your concern, shopkeeper."

"On the contrary," he said, turning his head to look at Ulquiorra with a carefully neutral expression. "Orihime-chan's well-being is very much my concern... not least because, after you, I may be the one most responsible for her going to Hueco Mundo."

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes. "Explain." The shopkeeper resumed his inspection of the gigai, more closely than before, as though details that had seemed inconsequential only a moment before were suddenly intriguing.

"I told her once that her friends didn't need her help in combat, that she would just be a burden to them. I think she agreed to become a prisoner because she wanted to protect her friends for once, rather than relying on them to protect her."

So he had said something like that. How could he get her so right and so wrong at the same time? In any case, the woman's determination to prove herself useful to her friends suddenly took on added significance, and for some reason, Ulquiorra felt anger smoldering in his chest. "You are correct about her motives... but she is not at all weak."

He sighed. "No, I guess not. I suppose I owe her an apology." He tossed the gigai to Ulquiorra, who caught it smoothly, and smiled at him as though the previous conversation had never occurred. "Time to start your life as a human!" Ulquiorra entered the gigai, and for a moment, he felt nothing... then an excruciating pain shot through him. It felt as though every one of his nerve endings were being submerged in acid. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the frightened look on Urahara's face.

* * *

><p>"So, where's the ice cream? And don't tell me you don't have any. I'm a single girl, too; I know what our freezers look like!"<p>

Orihime laughed in mild embarrassment. "Just a second – let me get the door closed first!" Orihime turned on the light, and a wave of nostalgia swept over her. How long had it been since she had seen this place? Time was hard to keep track of in Hueco Mundo, what with having no day-and-night cycle to measure it by. She looked around in a semi-daze. Judging by the amount of dust that had accumulated, she figured she had been gone for weeks, and perhaps as long as a month, which squared well with the estimates she had made based on her cycle of meals while imprisoned. She frowned; surely it didn't take Kurosaki-kun and the others that long to come after her? Maybe Hueco Mundo was one of those places where time flowed differently, like she sometimes read about in science fiction stories. Shaking her head, she snapped out of her reverie and looked at Rangiku-san.

"It's in the freezer," she said. Rangiku-san smiled mischievously at her, and Orihime realized that of course she already knew where the ice cream was – where else would it be? She smiled back at her friend, but it faded as she said, "You can help yourself. I want to shower and change first." Rangiku-san's smile faded, too.

"Yeah, you've probably had enough of that outfit to last for a lifetime." In truth, Orihime didn't mind the outfit. She had caught glimpses of herself in reflective surfaces once or twice, and she had to admit that, from what she had been able to see, Ulquiorra-kun was right: it really did suit her. Nonetheless, she approached her bedroom with trepidation. She had a full-length mirror in there, and this would be her first time seeing herself from head to toe while wearing her Arrancar outfit. She wasn't sure what she would see... and a part of her even wondered whether she wanted to see it at all. Perhaps it would be better to take the outfit off without looking in the mirror and never think of it again. But she realized, as she closed the bedroom door, that she couldn't do that. As frightened as she was about what she might see in the mirror, she was more frightened of never seeing it at all. Holding her breath, she stepped in front of the mirror and gasped, raising a hand to her chest.

Who was this girl – no, who was this _woman_? It couldn't be her. Her shoulders didn't curve so gracefully. She didn't fill out her outfits like that. And she certainly didn't have any dresses with circular holes in them, calling attention to her-

She threw her hands up to cover her furiously blushing face. Oh, god... she had seen where that hole was positioned, but this was her first time looking at it from the front. Even though the outfit covered her all the way up to her neck, a detail like that, right in the middle of it, made it somehow _more_ enticing than the impossibly skimpy clothes that Loly and Menoly wore. She peeked out from between her fingers, only to cover her eyes again and blush even more deeply than before. In a dark corner in the back of her mind, a voice that sounded like hers, and yet not like hers, wondered whether the looks she had gotten on the street were entirely due to her talking to what they thought was thin air. Turning away from the mirror, Orihime stripped off the outfit, threw it to the floor, and dashed into the shower. She didn't come out again until the hot water was entirely gone.

When she finally did emerge from the shower, she had calmed down quite a bit, but still dug out the bulkiest sweater she owned, and a pair of jeans that she'd bought after putting on some extra weight last winter. They were too big for her now, of course – in fact, it looked like she'd lost a little weight while in Hueco Mundo, though that might just be her imagination – but that was exactly what she wanted. Anything to cover up that terrifying sight she had seen in the mirror; just thinking about it made her feel dizzy. Too bad she couldn't throw a cloak over her mind's eye. Still, she did her best to ignore the memory as she searched through her winter accessories. Good, her hat and gloves were just where she had left them. She pulled them on, took a deep breath, and entered the main living area. Rangiku-san was sitting at the counter separating the kitchen from the living room, and raised an eyebrow when she saw Orihime all bundled up.

"You going out again tonight?" Orihime blushed, and her carefully regained composure collapsed in an instant. Of course she wasn't going out, but how could she explain what she had seen in the mirror, or how she reacted to it? There was no way. She frantically groped about for a cover story.

"No, of course not! I just, um... got cold! Yep, that's it, freezing cold!" she said, grabbing the carton of ice cream from Rangiku-san and scooping a bowl for herself, which she dug into furiously. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rangiku-san frown.

"You're freezing cold... and eating ice cream?" Orihime choked, and coughed until her airway was clear. Her face was deep red, and only part of that was due to coughing.

"Yep! I have no idea why that is! I sure am silly!" She knocked on her head a couple times and laughed nervously, and looked away from Rangiku-san's skeptical expression. After a moment, she felt a friendly hand on her shoulder, and looked back to find Rangiku-san smiling at her comfortingly.

"It's okay, Orihime. Whatever's got you flustered, you don't have to be nervous around me. We're still friends - nothing will change that."

Orihime smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Rangiku-san. That... that means a lot to me." The other woman's smile turned mischievous.

"Now, girl, it's time to spill the beans!" She leaned in conspiratorially. "So, what'd he say to you? It must've been reeeally juicy."

Orihime blushed again. "I told you, it's not like that!" Rangiku-san just smirked, and Orihime's blush deepened as she looked down. "Well... it wasn't any one thing, you know? In fact, I don't know if it was anything he said. Whenever he talked, his words were cutting – they hurt, and they were meant to hurt." She smiled weakly. "When I think about it that way, maybe it's a good thing he doesn't like to talk unless he has to." Orihime looked up to see that Rangiku-san was frowning in concern.

"Then... if it wasn't his words, it must've been something he did." Orihime nodded slowly, the blush fading from her face.

"Yes... though not at first. For a while, I thought he was just another of Aizen's servants – less brutal than someone like Yammy, who was there the first time Ulquiorra-kun and I saw each other, but still cruel and dangerous. The first sign I got that there might be more to him was when Nnoitra, a really nasty Espada, told me that he had asked Ulquiorra-kun... some things about me." She blushed again and looked away. "He told me that Ulquiorra-kun called him 'disgusting,' and that he made it clear that someone like Nnoitra had no business with me." She decided not to mention Nnoitra's insistence that he would have business with her no matter what Ulquiorra-kun said; that wasn't something she even liked to think about, much less talk about. She briefly wondered what Ulquiorra-kun would say if she told him about it, but shied away from that thought before she could follow it too far. It was the kind of thought that could easily fluster her, and she really didn't need to be flustered again.

Rangiku-san's eyes widened. "That's... quite a thing to say."

"Yeah," Orihime smiled faintly. "And that's not all. The first time I wore- er, that is, the first time he came to visit me in my cell, he startled me by coming in without knocking. I told him he scared me, and although he never apologized for it, from then on he always announced himself before entering. It's not much, but it's more consideration than most of the Arrancars showed me."

Rangiku-san nodded and smiled encouragingly. "Go on."

"The next thing was the one that really began to change my mind about him. He slept in my cell."

"He did WHAT?" Rangiku-san's jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide. Orihime suddenly realized how that must have sounded.

"I-It's not like that!" Orihime cried, waving her hands frantically. "I don't even know if he has-" she slapped both hands over her mouth and ran into the bathroom, and her mortification finally faded about the same time Rangiku-san's laughing tapered off. She composed herself and walked back out to the kitchen, where Rangiku-san was dragging herself back onto her chair. So that thump Orihime had heard had been her falling out of it. Orihime pouted, and Rangiku-san, seeing how upset she was, managed to subdue the last of her laughter.

"Sorry... so, what was it like?" Orihime bit her lip, but it didn't seem like Rangiku-san was teasing her. Her state of mind was probably making her hear _double entendre_ where none was intended. The girl sat across from her friend and thought about how to explain what had happened.

"Well, I didn't realize that Ulquiorra-kun could sleep. He told me that Starrk-san, the Primera Espada, spent more time sleeping than he did awake, but he never mentioned anything about his own habits. I didn't even know if he was capable of sleeping, you know? But one time, when he came to my cell to bring me food, he lay down on the couch – I didn't have a bed – and fell asleep. He even talked in his sleep a little, though I couldn't tell what he was dreaming about." She smiled faintly. "Still, that was when I learned that he could sleep and even dream. For someone as severe as him, that really made him seem more..." She trailed off, not sure how to say what she meant.

"Human?" Rangiku-san supplied. Orihime smiled.

"Yes... that's it. That wasn't the first time I called him 'Ulquiorra-kun,' but now that I look back, it was the first time I thought that it really suited him."

Her friend smiled. "It sounds like not all of his words are meant to hurt."

Orihime blushed faintly. "No... I guess not." Rangiku-san thought for a moment, furrowing her brows.

"That's all very nice, but it feels like there's still something more."

Orihime looked away, her smile vanishing. "Yes... there's one more thing."

Rangiku-san leaned over and nudged her. "Well, come on, girl! Don't hold back – what was it?"

Orihime swallowed. The story she was about to tell involved things that had only happened a few hours ago, and she wasn't quite sure she had processed them enough to talk about them, even with a good friend. Still, when she looked at Rangiku-san's encouraging smile, she realized that there really wasn't much of a choice – if she didn't talk about these things with someone, the pressure from them would build up until it tore her apart, and who better to talk with than Rangiku-san? Tatsuki-chan was the only one who came to mind, but she didn't know about Orihime's connection to the spirit world. She gathered her courage, thinking about how to begin.

"There were a number of things that happened during his final battle with-" There was a knock at the door, a loud, insistent one. Orihime and Rangiku-san frowned at each other. It was almost sunset; who could be visiting at this hour? Rangiku-san put her hand on her sword and rose from her chair, but Orihime put a hand on her arm, shaking her head. This was her apartment, and she would answer her own door. Rangiku-san nodded, standing behind her as she opened the door. When she saw who stood there, her jaw dropped open.

"Kurosaki-kun."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Ulquiorra is superb for the type of comedy that relies on trying to maintain one's dignity when the whole world is conspiring to undermine it, isn't he?

As for Orihime, I wavered for a while over the bit where she gets embarrassed by her Arrancar outfit, but ultimately decided to include it. As much as I enjoy reading UlquiHime stories, one of the things that bothers me about a number of them is the tendency to portray Orihime as more naïve than she really is. (That version of Orihime is often paired with an Ulquiorra who is more easily angered than he really is, but that's a different problem). One of the cornerstones of the UlqhiHime pairing is the amount of personal growth she underwent while in Ulquiorra's charge, and making her out to be largely unaware of sexual implications, as I see it, undermines a significant element of that growth. Whether or not you agree (with any of this), let me know what you think.

Also, if you ever get a hankering for some of my writing and feel like checking out a different series, there's a little one-shot I wrote for _He is My Master_, titled "Stuck with HiMM." The series is an ecchi comedy with a lot of slapstick, so it's not for everybody, but I think it had a lot of potential that neither the manga nor the anime ever realized, and my story is a mostly serious, character-based drama, with a little comic relief. Also, although the settings, characters, and plots of that series and this one are quite different in many ways, both "Stuck with HiMM" and "The Things Reflected" share the central theme of a male lead who starts off nasty or even monstrous, and who is ultimately humanized through his interactions with the female lead. A reverse Pygmalion?


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note**: Not even ten chapters in, and I've already had my first major schedule slip. For an explanation, see the note at the end of this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Kurosaki-kun smiled at her. "Hey, Inoue. Just coming to check on you." His smile turned into a frown. "Why are you all bundled up like that? Is your heat not working?"

She waved her hand in embarrassment. "No, no, nothing like that! I just... um..." She couldn't think of anything to say, and pulled off her hat and gloves with a nervous grin. "Wow, look at that! I'm suddenly warm again! Ha ha!"

"If you say so." He smiled ruefully, then looked around her apartment with a suspicious look on his face. "Is he here?"

Orihime's nervous grin faded. "Kurosaki-kun..." He looked at her, and only then did she notice the dark circles under his eyes. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room.

"What the- hey! What is this?" From the counter, she heard Rangiku-san laughing, and saw Kurosaki-kun give her a dirty look. She spared Rangiku-san a glance that was half-embarrassed and half-annoyed before turning back to the new arrival.

"Kurosaki-kun, you're exhausted! Come in and get some sleep!"

"But... but..." Before he could think of anything to say, Orihime pulled the door closed and turned to him with her arms crossed. The way she frowned would've been cute, except that Ichigo was too busy being stunned at her boldness.

"No buts, young man! You died twice today, and you are _not_ leaving this apartment until you've had a proper rest!"

"Inoue..." He just stood there, staring at her with his jaw half-open. Her expression softened.

"Kurosaki-kun, you've done enough for me. The least I can do is let you stay here."

Kurosaki-kun's face turned serious again. "Thanks, Inoue, but I've still got a job to do. Is he here?"

Orihime sighed. Clearly, he wasn't going to let this go. "No, he's not. I guess he's still at Urahara-san's shop."

"Good," he snorted. "Until his powers are sealed away, I don't want him getting anywhere near you."

"I keep telling people he's not like that," she frowned. He returned her frown, and the tension between them grew until the air was almost crackling. Sensing the bad mood, Rangiku-san rose from her chair and threw an arm around Kurosaki-kun's shoulder.

"Well, well, come in and sit down! We were just having some sake and talking about... things." The other two stared at her, and she winced. Sure, it wasn't the most graceful effort to change the subject, but couldn't they at least give her credit for trying? Kurosaki-kun turned his attention back to Orihime, and he wasn't smiling.

"Thanks, but I didn't come for a pleasant chat, let alone to stay the night. Now that we're in private, I want to know what you were thinking."

Orihime frowned more deeply than she could ever remember frowning at Kurosaki-kun. "I told you what I was thinking." He shook his head.

"No... there's more to it than that, and I've got a feeling it has something to do with me."

"Ichigo..." Rangiku-san said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off without even looking at her. Orihime's frown turned into a full-blown scowl.

"You want to know what happened, Kurosaki-kun?" He glared at her silently, and she returned it with interest. "Fine... but remember, you asked." She took a deep breath and continued: "During that fight, you became more of a monster than he was."

The silence that fell over them made death seem warm and hell welcoming. Kurosaki-kun's jaw worked as he ground his teeth. Finally, he managed to squeeze out a single word, whispered and almost completely without inflection: "What?"

"I don't know what that new form was, or what you were trying to do with it, Kurosaki-kun, but like Ishida-kun said, it was almost as dangerous to us as it was to him. If Ulquiorra-kun hadn't shattered your mask..." She trailed off, terrified at the mere thought.

Ichigo's anger melted into fear and remorse. "That... that wasn't me..."

Some of her anger dissipated as well, but there was still a great deal of bitterness in her soul, and in her tone. The fight on top of Las Noches had brought some things to light, but the undercurrents of those things had been there for a long time – maybe they had always been there. "No? Then who was it? Better yet, why did you offer to let Ulquiorra-kun cut you in half so you could win the fight the way you wanted to?" Tears began welling up in her eyes, and the bitterness turned to sadness. "It's always about fighting with you, isn't it, Kurosaki-kun? That's why you turned into that... that _thing_. Protecting people isn't what you're about – it's just a nice side effect of what you're really after."

"Stop it. You know that's not true."

"Then why did you almost hit me with a Getsuga Tenshou?" she cried. Ichigo's jaw dropped open. "You were so busy trying to kill those girls who threatened me that you didn't even realize the greatest threat to me... was you." She looked away from him. "If Ulquiorra-kun hadn't stepped in, you would have killed me. And you can't say that was the fault of your new form, or even the inner Hollow you've been using for a while." She looked up at him, and the tears were flowing freely now. "It was you, Kurosaki-kun. It was only you. And you know what the worst part is?" He didn't answer. "The worst part is that I don't even know if something like that will happen again. Even if you never again turn into that thing, there's a monster inside you, Kurosaki-kun... and it has nothing to do with the mask you wear."

"Inoue... is that what you really think of me?" She forced herself to look him in the eyes as she nodded. He stood silently for a long time, then, with a resolute look on his face, nodded in return. "So be it." He headed for the door, and Orihime's stomach dropped to her ankles.

"Kurosaki-kun... what are you doing?"

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to set things right." Then he walked out without another word, closing the door calmly behind him. Orihime and Rangiku-san looked at each other.

"W-What do you think he meant by that?" Orihime asked anxiously. Rangiku-san shook her head, grimacing.

"You hit him with some pretty heavy stuff there, Orihime. I think he's headed for a fight." The pieces clicked into place, and Orihime felt sick.

"No... not a fight. If Urahara-san's done his job, it won't be a fight at all." Rangiku-san looked surprised.

"You really think he would... to someone whose powers are sealed?" Orihime didn't answer. She barely remembered to grab her keys before running out the door, Rangiku-san hot on her heels. Kurosaki-kun was already out of sight, and they dashed after him through the fading light.

* * *

><p>When they reached the candy store, Orihime half-expected to hear raised voices arguing loudly, so the complete silence that greeted them was even more ominous than it would otherwise have been.<p>

"Kurosaki-kun!" she called, her voice ragged. No answer. "_Kurosaki-kuuun!_"

The front door opened, and Urahara-san stood there. Orihime gulped – with the store's light lighting him from behind, she couldn't remember a time when he had looked so frightening. It didn't help that he wasn't smiling.

"Orihime-chan... please, come in. You, too, Matsumoto. Kurosaki is in the back." Orihime didn't wait, didn't even nod her thanks; she dashed past the store owner and wove her way through the maze of boxes, nearly knocking several of them over. She reached the back, flung open the door... and there stood Kurosaki-kun, looking down at Ulquiorra-kun. No blood. No swords. No signs of violence. Just a quiet look. Although Kurosaki-kun's back was facing her, Orihime could sense the introspection in the set of his shoulders.

"Kurosaki-kun... please... don't hurt him." For a moment, he was silent. Then, he shook his head.

"So... that really is what you think of me." She was stunned. What was that supposed to mean? He turned to look at her, and his face was full of sorrow. "It's all right. I don't blame you." He looked again at Ulquiorra. "You were right. There is a monster inside me." He turned fully to Orihime and took her hands in his. "But I promise you, Inoue, I'm going to train harder than I ever have before, so that monster will never threaten you, or anyone else I care about, ever again." For a second, he squeezed her hands. "I swear it."

She didn't know what to say. The anger and bitterness from their earlier encounter was gone, and all that remained was the sorrow. This wasn't some heartless monster; this was Kurosaki Ichigo-kun, her dear friend, who had always gone out of his way to keep her and everyone he cared about safe. It wasn't his fault that there was a monster inside of him. She removed her hands from his and threw her arms around him. "I know you'll figure out a way. You always do."

He returned her hug, tightly. "Thanks, Inoue." He pulled back from her and smiled before walking toward the door. As Orihime turned her attention to Ulquiorra, Ichigo stopped in the doorway, and spoke without looking at her. "Of course, I'll be watching him. If he so much as breathes wrong, I'll kill him."

She frowned. "I told you, he's-" But Kurosaki-kun left without hearing what she had to say. Rangiku-san watched him leave.

"So he ran all the way here to prove that he's _not_ out of control?" she muttered, shaking her head and frowning.

"Well, he always did think a little differently," Urahara-san said brightly. "Now, Orihime-chan, seeing as it's already rather late, would you like to stay here for the night? We can put you up with Yoruichi."

Orihime smiled nervously and waved her hand.

"It's okay! If you don't mind..." She looked down and blushed. "I'd... like to stay with Ulquiorra-kun." She looked up to see Urahara-san, Yoruichi-san, and Rangiku-san all smiling wickedly at that, and Orhime blushed deeper yet. "You know... in case he wakes up and wonders what happened."

"Of course, Orihime-chan, of course," Urahara-san nodded. "We can lay down a spare futon." He and Yoruichi-san left the room, but when Rangiku-san turned to follow them, a voice from the corner stopped her.

"Hold on, Matsumoto," the voice's owner said. Orihime started, but Rangiku-san sighed with a mixture of fondness and resignation.

"Captain... I was wondering what you would have to say about all this," she said, turning to face him with a smile. Toshiro-kun stepped out of the shadows, looking as happy as he usually did.

"You'll get to hear all about it... after you make your report to me."

Rangiku-san wagged her finger and winked. "Now now, Captain – a lady has to have her secrets. You can't expect me to gossip about the inner workings of Orihime's heart."

"R-Rangiku-san, don't say it like that!" Orihime was getting tired of feeling flustered, and she turned to the Tenth Division Captain in desperation. "It's not like that, Toshiro-kun! Really it's not!"

"First of all, it's _Captain Hitsugaya_. Second..." His scowl deepened. "You've formed an attachment to one of the most powerful Hollows we've ever encountered. Do you understand? Even before Aizen crossed them with Shinigami, those things were abominations. That thing-" he pointed toward Ulquiorra, "-is an abomination. Now it's staying in the real world, disguised as a human, and I'm forbidden from killing it." He crossed his arms. "So don't worry. I guarantee I won't find any of this amusing."

"Tosh- I mean, Captain Hitsugaya..." Orihime tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. Her shoulder slumped, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. This day had gone on much too long already. Rangiku-san frowned at her captain's words, but apparently decided to save whatever answers she might have for when they were talking in private. Instead, she hugged Orihime and smiled at her encouragingly.

"Don't worry," she said. "The Captain always gets like this when he's tired. I'll make him see things our way."

"I'm standing right here, Matsumoto," Toshiro-kun said flatly. Rangiku-san waved at him and smiled placatingly.

"Of course you are, Captain! Now, why don't we find somewhere to sit down, and I'll tell you all about my end of things." She put a hand on Toshiro-kun's shoulder, but he brushed it off as he turned and walked into the hallway. Rangiku-san followed him, stopping in the doorway to look back at Orihime. She flashed one last smile before hurrying off to catch up with her captain.

Orihime entered the hall and watched Toshiro-kun and Rangiku-san's fleeting backs. Between them and Orihime, Yoruichi-san and Urahara-san were carrying a futon, blanket, and pillow. They set up a bed for Orihime, dusted their hands off, and nodded in unison, as though they had planned it. Yoruichi-san turned to her and grinned. "That should do it. We'll be down the hall, third door on the right. Let us know if you need anything... or if he wakes up."

Orihime felt her stomach twist. "'If'?"

Yoruichi-san saw the fear on her face. "Don't worry, he's fine. I just meant let us know if he wakes up before we do." The words were reassuring, but Orihime noticed Urahara-san flashing Yoruichi-san a quick look of reproach. What was that about? Was Yoruichi-san covering up something important? She knelt by Ulquiorra's side and examined him. He looked healthy enough, and even peaceful, a state she handn't seen him in since... well, since the last time she'd seen him sleep. She reached out and brushed his hair out of his face, and Yoruichi-san, sensing the mood, gestured for Urahara-san to follow her out of the room.

"Goodnight, Orihime-chan," he said, waving his fan at her. She turned, smiled, and nodded, then turned back to Ulquiorra. Whatever that strange look had been about, it could wait until tomorrow.

"Sleep well, Ulquiorra-kun," she said, curling up under her own covers. All the hardships they would face, all the suspicion that would be directed her way for defending Ulquiorra-kun, all the difficulties he would have adjusting to human life... they could all wait until tomorrow.

As she drifted off, her last thought was that she had been too tired to remove anything more than her outermost layers. Well, if everything else could wait until tomorrow, so could her clothes.

Right now, everything was fine.

Right now, everything was perfect.

* * *

><p>Ichigo stepped into the darkness, and a familiar voice sounded behind him.<p>

"That was quite a show you put on, Kurosaki." He turned to see a flash of light glinting off perfectly polished glasses, and an outfit white enough to stand out even against the last rays of sunlight. "One might almost think you meant to kill him."

Ichigo grinned wryly. "I thought about it... and don't pretend you haven't."

"Thinking about it is one thing. Running off at full tilt without a word of explanation is another."

"I did that to get an answer-"

"Oh, yes. And get it you did. But did you ever think about Inoue's feelings in the matter?" Ichigo's grin turned to a frown. "No, of course you didn't. It's always been about you, hasn't it? Never a thought for how she might feel?" The Quincy adjusted his glasses. "You may only be a substitute, but you've already got the mind of a Shinigami."

Ichigo's hands clenched into fists. "Listen, Ishida-"

"No, _you_ listen. As a rule, I don't give a damn about your hotheadedness... but when it starts hurting Inoue, that's another matter. She wants to believe in you, Kurosaki. She wants to trust you as a protector and as a friend. Betray that trust again, and we will have problems."

The two men glared at each other, Ichigo with smoldering, and Ishida with cold fury. Finally, Ichigo's hands unclenched, and he leaned against the wall of the store, sliding down into a sitting position. He hadn't rested since before entering Hueco Mundo, and he suddenly felt exhausted. He closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the tension leaving his shoulders.

"How's your arm?" he asked. Ishida knew which one he meant.

"It's like it was never injured at all. Inoue's power really is remarkable," he said. Ichigo opened his eyes to find that Ishida was sitting against the wall beside him. "I wonder if that really is why Aizen wanted her."

"He said she was just a distraction, didn't he?" Ichigo answered. Ishida gave him a look that would have been acid, had he not been so clearly worn out.

"Yes, and we should clearly trust everything he says," the Quincy answered. Ichigo clicked his tongue.

"You're right about that," he said, closing his eyes again. A minute or two went by without any word from Ishida, and Ichigo looked over to find his head drooping forward, and... was that _snoring_? Ichigo chuckled wryly. Oh, he'd give Ishida endless hell about that. The great Quincy, humanity's last line of defense against both Hollows and Shinigami, sawing lumber! That would make... a great... something...

But Ichigo never figured out what it would make before he, too, fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: While there were external factors involved in this chapter's delay, the main difficulty I had in writing it was an internal one. This confrontation, or something like it, was necessary to move the story forward, but for the longest time I simply could not figure out how it should go. Up until now, I've kept the characters, if not the plot, well within the boundaries of their canonical personalities, but the fight between Orihime and Ichigo was my first time trying to write something that stayed true to the characters even as it pushed them onto new ground. I believe I managed to pull it off, but as always, I'm interested to hear what you think.

Also, I've been getting positive responses to both of my other stories, and I wanted to say that I do plan on turning them both into multi-chapter tales – I even have ideas for how I want them both to go. That said, at least for right now, this story is my priority, but I will be continuing all three stories as I feel inclined to do so. So if you like one, two, or even all three of them, stay tuned – there will be more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note**: And now, the first interactions between Orihime and a newly-human(ish) Ulquiorra. Also, having thought about the matter further, I realized another reason for the long delay of the previous chapter. I don't think anyone will be surprised to learn that Ulquiorra is one of my favorite characters in _Bleach_, and chapter 6 was the first time he was entirely out of commission. As for whether it will be the last time... well, let's just see what happens, shall we? *Aizen-like smile*

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

The next morning, Orihime awoke to sunlight streaming through the blinds of the room's lone window. Normally, such a thing would have bothered her, but today she was happy just to be seeing the sun again – it was the first time she had awoken to sunlight in a month. In fact, apart from the fake sun of Aizen's fake sky and the few hours of daylight yesterday, it was the first time she'd _seen_ the sun in a month, and she smiled as she felt its old, familiar warmth melting away the last remnants of Hueco Mundo's chill. She sat up... and screamed to wake the dead as Nnoitra loomed over her, grinning, grinning.

Ulquiorra's eyes flew open. The woman hadn't screamed often, but he would never forget the few times she had... not least because, prior to this one, he was responsible for the last and worst of them. He didn't know what had terrified her like that, and he didn't care. She was his charge, and no one would harm her on his watch. He threw off his covers and jumped to his feet in one fluid motion. He threw himself in front of the woman, who had crossed her arms in front of her face, and found himself face-to-face with the disgusting grin of Nnoitra's gigai.

Ah, so that was what had scared her. Ulquiorra supposed he couldn't blame the woman; he himself could thrash Nnoitra with hardly any effort, and even he would not enjoy waking to the sight of that loathsome grin. Ulquiorra was more than a little irritated with the shopkeeper, for although his attention to detail was commendable, there was no reason for him to choose such an unpleasant expression for the gigai's default setting. Perhaps he could convince him to destroy that form; it shouldn't be difficult, since, with the Quinta Espada dead, there was no point in keeping a gigai that looked uncomfortably like him. Perhaps the resources that went into it could even be used for other gigai: Nnoitra, who had always been ready to pounce on the slightest weakness, and who tirelessly, tiresomely preached the unforgiving nature of a Hollow's existence, would himself be cannibalized to feed others of his kind. That seemed fitting to Ulquiorra. Frightened breathing interrupted his thoughts, and he snapped back to the present. Of course, she was the reason he was here, in this position.

"Woman," he said, turning to her, "this is a gigai. The Fifth is dead. You have no reason to be afraid." She looked up at him, and her jaw fell open in wonder. It was Ulquiorra-kun, there was no mistaking that, but with no bone-white skin, no green streaks under his eyes, no helmet on his head, and – she saw from the open neck of his black robes – no hole in his chest, he looked so... _human_. None of that was what caught her attention, though. She was focused on a far more important detail.

"Ulquiorra-kun..." She trailed off into silence, unsure of how to voice such a momentous thought.

"Yes, woman?" he said. His voice was of course overwhelmingly flat, but there was just a hint of interest there, and she knew he wouldn't fake an interest in anything. He really wanted to know what she had to say, and she couldn't hold back from saying it.

"Your hands aren't in your pockets."

Silence.

"These foolish Shinigami robes have no pockets," he said. Her eyes went wide.

"You're wearing Shinigami robes!"

"Your powers of observation continue to serve you," he said flatly. Orihime pouted.

"Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm not." He probably was making fun of her, but even she didn't know him well enough to know for sure. She threw her pillow at him anyway, and it hit him square in the chest. He stared at her, his face verging – for him, anyway – on open disbelief.

"Then stop talking all the time like you're making fun of everyone around you!" He didn't respond, and she began to worry that she might have hurt him. How fragile was that gigai, anyway? Rangiku-san's and Rukia-san's gigai were strong, although nowhere near as strong as their Shinigami bodies, but Ulquiorra was a special case. Maybe Urahara-san had made him especially prone to injury, just to make sure he wouldn't get out of line. What if she had to take him to the hospital? He didn't have a National Health Insurance certificate – would they take hers instead? But he didn't have an alien registration certificate, either. What if the hospital workers decided there was something suspicious about him? What if they thought he was a foreign spy she was trying to smuggle into the country? They might lock the two of them up together in the same room until they could figure out what to do with them! What if she and Ulquiorra had to use the bathroom at the same time? And what would they do about only having one bed? What if she was sleeping, and he tried to-

"_You can have the bed!_" she shouted, closing her eyes and waving her hands frantically. "_Just don't do anything weird to me!_"

A sword was at his throat. From the corner of his eye, Ulquiorra saw Tenth Division Lieutenant Matsumoto Rangiku glaring at him with the coldest eyes he had ever seen... including his own.

"I told Orihime I'd give you a chance, and that's exactly what I'll do," she said, her voice as cold as her eyes. "You have one chance to explain yourself. What. The hell. Were you doing to her?"

He returned her gaze as best he could without moving his head in the slightest. "I did nothing."

"Um... he's telling the truth, Rangiku-san," the woman said, waving her hand in embarrassment. "I just... uh... was thinking about something else."

The Lieutenant looked at her with a mixture of relief and skepticism. "Oh? And what was that?"

"Um, well, it's..." She scratched the back of her neck. "Gee, it's hard to say!"

"This is absurd," Ulquiorra cut in. "The woman has corrected your hasty assumption. Lower your sword, and leave me in peace." When the Lieutenant failed to comply, instead resuming her frigid glare, Ulquiorra raised his hand to push the blade away, and gasped in pain as it sliced deeply into him. He fell to the floor, cradling his hand and breathing heavily through gritted teeth. The woman rushed to his side and examined his wound, looking sick. She took his hand in both of hers.

"Souten Kisshun. I reject," she said firmly. The orange light, and its attendant warmth, bathed his hand, soothing the injured flesh, and turning back a piece of the clock until it had never been injured to begin with. He tried to look away from her, but his willpower failed him for several seconds. Finally, he glanced at her futon, on which the two of them were kneeling, and grimaced.

"Woman... I have stained your bedsheets." He began gathering her blanket, and she looked at him in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"I made this mess. I will clean it up."

She smiled in embarrassment. "Really, you don't have to worry about it – there's not _that_ much blood on it."

He just looked at her. "I made this mess. I will clean it up." Orihime stared silently. She knew that Ulquiorra-kun's surface calm was just that – a surface covering a maelstrom of thoughts and impulses, more than a few of which were constantly clashing with each other. That was one of the reasons for his extraordinary intensity, which charged even his smallest actions until they were fairly crackling, but even he had never looked at her with such determination. She blinked, nodded, and backed up off her futon to allow him to finish collecting the blanket into his arms. She and Rangiku-san watched him leave, Orihime in stunned silence, Rangiku-san with a wide smile.

"He sure is nice, isn't he? I hope the people around here give him a chance."

Orihime smiled awkwardly. "Um, you're the one who threatened him." Rangiku-san draped her left arm around Orihime's shoulder.

"Come on, it's your first full day back in the human world! It should be a happy occasion – let's not bicker and argue about who threatened who!"

"E-Even if you say that, you held a sword to his neck..."

"Details, details," she said, waving her right hand dismissively, and leading Orihime past the assembled Espada gigai and out of the room. "Come on, let's see if Urahara's got breakfast on yet!"

* * *

><p>Urahara indeed had breakfast going, and Ulquiorra found him preparing it.<p>

"Shopkeeper," he said without preamble, "The Nnoitra gigai you prepared was left in a singularly ill position. It gave the woman a severe fright just now."

"Is that what that noise was?" the shopkeeper answered, looking over his shoulder with a nonchalant grin. "Well, I couldn't feel any unknown reiatsu, so I knew the trouble couldn't be serious."

Ulquiorra's grip tightened on the bundle in his hands; the man's insouciance was infuriating. "And what if it had been a mundane intruder? Or worse, someone skilled in the cloaking of reiatsu? I am not well-versed in customs of hospitality, but I doubt they include allowing a guest to be murdered in her sleep."

"Well then," Urahara said, turning back to his stir fry, "I suppose it's a good thing you were there for her."

Ulquiorra's eyes widened in shock before narrowing in suspicion. "Explain yourself, shopkeeper."

Urahara paused for a moment and sighed. "Using a gigai to seal reiatsu is nothing new for me; I've got it down to a science. And while I've never tried to use it on a Hollow before, it shouldn't be that different, especially since, in your case, you're part Shinigami."

"I am not-"

"Right, right, I forgot how much that bothered you. But it's really not that bad, you know?" He paused again, and when Ulquiorra said nothing, he shrugged. "Anyway, it seems I miscalculated. When Orihime-chan screamed, I felt a sliver of reiatsu – nothing like it was before, but it was unmistakably there. And it was unmistakably yours."

"Are you saying..." He couldn't finish; the implications of those words troubled him deeply.

"On the one hand, you shouldn't have any of your spiritual energy available to you. On the other hand, I'm glad to see you're channeling it toward a noble end." He looked over his shoulder again, and his smile, though crooked, seemed genuine. "Maybe Orihime-chan was right about you. Maybe all you needed was a chance."

Ulquiorra was far too stunned to speak. If his reiatsu was available to him, if there were some crack in the wall through which he could reach it, he should be able to widen that breach until he had all his powers back. But if he did that, it might be construed as a hostile act. His position was not nearly strong enough to move against Soul Society, and he didn't want to move against them, anyway. As he had told the captains, he was here to better understand humans, and this heart they spoke of so easily. Was his unexpected ability to channel his reiatsu a manifestation of the heart? Impossible; he had none. But where had it come from, then? Perhaps the woman would have some answers; he would have to ask her about it later. In the meantime, he had work to do.

"Where may I clean this?" he asked, seizing upon the task before his eyes, reassuring in its definitive, concrete nature. The shopkeeper looked at the blanket and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Is that blood?"

"Lieutenant Matsumoto of the Tenth Division overheard the woman screaming. Her reaction was more decisive than yours."

"She cut you?" His eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "I wouldn't have expected that of her."

"That's not it. I cut myself when I tried to push her sword away. Your attention to detail is impressive, shopkeeper, but the fragility of this form is an unwelcome surprise."

Urahara grinned. "Well, I guess that's just one more thing you'll have to get used to about being human."

His eyes narrowed. "For the last time, I am not human. The woman seems to have trouble understanding that, but I thought you would be more grounded in reality." An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as the shopkeeper stared at him.

"Turn right as you leave here. The laundry room is the last door on the right." Ulquiorra nodded and turned to leave. "Ulquiorra." The peremptory tone of the address stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to the shopkeeper, who was not smiling. "Whatever you may be, it's time you start thinking of yourself as a human. If nothing else, it will help you maintain the fiction that you are one, and you'll need that fiction if you want to live among them without having to answer some very difficult questions." Ulquiorra frowned for a moment, then nodded.

"That argument is sound," he said, and left for the laundry room. He felt the shopkeeper's eyes on him as he left.

The residential area behind the candy store consisted of a long rectangular hallway, with rooms on both sides. It connected to the store via the room that currently held the Espadas' gigai, which itself connected to the room with the maze of crates and boxes. On the side of the hallway opposite the store were the doors leading to half-a-dozen bedrooms, and on the store side were doors leading to various utility rooms: apart from the gigai room, there was the kitchen, the bathroom, the main living and dining area, a room for quiet meditation, and the laundry room. It was in this last that Ulquiorra found himself standing quietly as he listened to the rattle of the worn-out washing machine. The events of the previous day turned over and over in his mind, mirroring the endless cycles of the machine, but unlike the woman's blanket, his musings were coming no closer to any discernible conclusion. On the contrary, the more he brooded, the more confused he became, and the blacker his mood grew. Perhaps coming here had been folly after all; what business did he, a heartless monster who devoured others of his kind to survive, have in trying to understand humans?

"Ulquiorra-kun?"

He turned to her with a frown. "Woman... I didn't hear you approaching."

She looked confused and a little awkward. "Um, well, you left the door open, and I decided I should put on indoor slippers if I'm going to be walking around, so-"

"That's not the problem." She cut off her words, biting her lower lip, and Ulquiorra felt a faint gnawing in his gut. Did the woman's sad expression cause that? If so, the easiest remedy would be to ease her mind, though he wasn't happy at the thought of her being able to so easily manipulate him. Still, like it or not, he couldn't hold back. "I couldn't feel your reiatsu, either. I can't let myself get distracted like that."

She frowned in a way that was both sad and curious. "I'm sorry. What was distracting you?"

He looked straight at her with an intensity that would have made her cringe once, and a small part of him marveled that it no longer seemed to bother her in the slightest. "I have hardly had a moment to think about what has happened since the end of the battle atop Las Noches. But I have time now, and I find that the more I think, the less clear things become. No matter how highly we evolve, Hollows are still fundamentally creatures of instinct, and our lives are correspondingly simple. We sleep, we fight, we feed, and we kill. Asking why we do these things is pointless and redundant – we do them because we must." He turned away from her to face the washing machine, and his voice became distant even as it took on a harder edge. "For the first time in my life, I find myself asking why I act the way I do, and I have no answers." He felt her hand on his shoulder, and, as it had yesterday, it somehow made him feel both more confused and more certain than he did a moment ago.

"Maybe that's your problem. You're just thinking too much!"

He turned to her, standing behind him with a bright smile, and frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you say you're a creature of instinct, right?"

"Of course."

"So what are you doing thinking all the time, silly? When was the last time you just felt something and went with it?"

He narrowed his eyes and frowned. "What inane logic is this? Among the Espadas, my powers of observation are second to none, and for analytical thinking, only Szayelaporro was my match. Those qualities, more than any amount of raw power, make me as valuable a soldier as I am, even in combat."

Her face crumbled, and the gnawing in his gut magnified tenfold. "So is that all you want to be? Just another soldier in Aizen's army?"

For some reason, he felt an urge to reach out to her, but he ignored it. "It's not about what I want to be. Apart from a lone wanderer, that is all I have ever been."

"That's not true!" she cried, and Ulquiorra could see her eyes turning wet with unshed tears. "You were human once, even if you don't remember it! All Hollows were!" He stared at her in silence, eyes wider than usual, too stunned to speak. He knew that the use of the "-kun" honorific meant that she thought of him as a human, but this was the first time she had explicitly insisted on identifying him as such. She looked up at him with a mixture of sorrow and defiance. "You may have just come here as an observer... but I brought you here to remind you of what you lost."

"Woman..." He tried to think of something more to say, and failed. After a moment, her expression softened into a smile that considerably eased his gnawing feeling, and she took him by the hand.

"Well, come on – you can finish cleaning up your mess later. Urahara-san made rice balls and stir fry!"

He was still trying to formulate a response as she led him into the hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Oh Matsumoto, you so crazy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note**: Another schedule slip, but this time there's a more substantial reason for it. As I said in the new author's note for chapter 1, I've felt for some time that the chapters prior to this were varying degrees of rushed, with too many talking heads and too little looking into the characters' minds. As such, I revised and expanded the first two chapters to almost twice what they were before, and I will be doing the same to the rest of the first seven chapters, though they may not all be expanded by the same magnitude. In any case, if you have not done so already, I urge you to read the new versions of chapters one and two, to keep an eye out for the updates to the other early chapters, and as always, to let me know what works, and what doesn't.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

The dining room of the house behind Urahara's candy store made Ulquiorra uncomfortable. It wasn't the furnishings; in spite of Aizen's somewhat eccentric preference for western-style chairs and tables, the Espadas had been free to arrange their personal quarters as they wished, and Ulquiorra had found sitting tailor-fashion or kneeling at a Japanese-style table congenial. Many Arrancars ate exclusively by hunting their own food, but Ulquiorra did so only occasionally, preferring to put the kitchen and its ready supply of Hollow flesh to good use, and to take his meals in his own room. Grimmjow in particular scoffed at that practice, insisting that food was always more satisfying when one caught and killed it oneself, and that adrenaline was the best flavoring. Ulquiorra maintained that flavoring was the best flavoring, and that no amount of adrenaline could compensate for the bad taste left in his mouth by needlessly expending energy on hunting. Besides, Starrk also preferred to use the kitchen, and although Ulquiorra had never been sociable, he found Starrk's company more tolerable than that of most of the Espadas. At least he knew that the Primera would never challenge him to a pointless fight, refer to him as an interesting specimen, or try to convince him that his dedication to the glorious Lord Aizen was not sufficiently enthusiastic... though in hindsight, he supposed that last point was valid enough. Consequently, Ulquiorra had plenty of experience eating at a table like the one that sat in the center of the room.

Nor was it the surroundings. Paper lamps with sky-blue shades hung in each corner of the room, but they were currently switched off so as not to interfere with the ambiance of the mid-morning sunlight as it streamed through the open window and suffused the room. The traditional Japanese rice-paper sliding doors, though there was nothing like them in Hueco Mundo, were not so strange as to cause him discomfort. It was not a large room, roughly four meters on a side, with a three-meter-ceiling, and if everyone he had seen in the store yesterday was planning to eat here simultaneously, it would be quite crowded. Ulquiorra had never liked feeling crowded; his earliest memory consisted of feeling the press of bodies all around him, right before they tried to devour him. Instead, he had devoured them, and the ensuing solitude, and the peace that accompanied it, had led him to prefer a solitary existence, a preference he maintained to this day. Apart from functioning more effectively in combat when he fought on his own, that was the most important reason he had no Fracciónes. Yet he was among humans now, and they were notoriously social creatures, so he supposed he had best start getting used to being in the company of others.

For a moment, he felt a tugging at the back of his mind, as though a memory, or perhaps a memory of a memory, were trying to surface. Something from his past? From his time as a... but no, he had long since given up on trying to remember that period of his existence. No doubt the sensation was imaginary, perhaps an aftereffect of the woman's remark that she had brought him to this world to remember what he had forgotten. Yes, that made sense. He looked at the woman as she ran up to Urahara, talking animatedly to him as he laid the table for breakfast. One of the most remarkable things about her was how her convictions could not only withstand all the evidence mustered against them, but even overcome the powers of reasoning in others. He would have to take the utmost care as he investigated this mystery of the heart, to make sure it did not corrupt his sight. But then, he was walking around in a human body, feeling human limitations and – he flexed the fingers of his recently-injured hand – weaknesses, and literally seeing the world through human eyes, or at least the best replica thereof that one of Soul Society's finest scientific minds could devise. Perhaps the corruption was already happening... perhaps it had already happened.

"Um... Ulquiorra-kun? Are you feeling all right?" He frowned. The woman thought he was staring at her – which, technically, he was, though it was more like he was staring in her direction. Certainly, he wasn't lost in contemplating the bright cheerfulness that had returned to her eyes now that she was back in her own world, or the way her hair caught just enough sunlight to make it shine, while generously leaving the majority of it to warm and illuminate the room...

"Ulquiorra-kun!" Her hand waved frantically in front of his eyes, which focused on her. His frown softened, though it didn't disappear. It wasn't the furnishings, and it wasn't the surroundings, but something was off.

"This world feels wrong. The reiatsu here is too..." Too what? The word evaded him, and he narrowed his eyes in frustration. The woman bit her lip.

"Too what?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she turned to Urahara. "Urahara-san, how would you describe the reiatsu here?"

Urahara looked up from setting the final plate and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "As compared to Hueco Mundo?" The woman turned to Ulquiorra, who nodded. Urahara thought for a moment, then grinned widely. "Lively!"

Ulquiorra's frown deepened. "Lively?" The shopkeeper nodded.

"Lively!" he reiterated.

"You are Urahara Kisuke," Ulquiorra said gravely. The shopkeeper's grin faded, and he nodded again, more slowly. "The founder and first President of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute." Another nod. "Then would you say that you are one of the finest scientific minds in Soul Society?"

Urahara's grin returned, more awkward than before. "Well, I'm not with Soul Society anymore, but..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.

"And 'Lively' is the best description you can think of?" Someone snorted, and Ulquiorra turned to find Shihouin standing in the doorway. Unlike the shopkeeper, who was already dressed for the day, including the hat-and-clogs combination he seemed to prefer, the shapeshifter was still wearing flannel clothes that looked as though they had been designed for sleeping. She was sipping from a plastic cup.

"He's got you there, Kisuke. Not exactly your most eloquent moment," she grinned wryly before stifling a yawn. Urahara grinned as he began laying down glasses and utensils.

"I'd ask you to do better, but I'm sure that after last night, you're a little tired." Shihouin gave him a dirty look as she took a drink.

"Were you practicing combat maneuvers?" Ulquiorra asked, and Shihouin spluttered, choking on her drink. Urahara chuckled.

"Yeah... combat maneuvers." He set down a glass and hid his face with his ever-present fan, so that only his eyes were visible. "If you ever have to fight her, Ulquiorra-kun, remember that her rear defenses are weak." He ducked as the plastic cup came flying at his head and sent water spraying all over the wall. A fire had ignited in Shihouin's eyes, and her fist was clenched so tightly it made her arm tremble.

"Urahara... KISUKE!" she roared. Urahara turned to Ulquiorra with a mischievous grin.

"Guess that's my cue to leave. You two go ahead and get started – I might be gone a while." He ducked past Shihouin as she grabbed wildly for him, and the two of them flew out of the room. Ulquiorra looked at Orihime, who looked just as confused as he was.

"Woman... what just happened?"

"Maybe she's cranky from being worn out," Orihime said. She and Ulquiorra stared at each other silently, as though waiting for an answer to materialize out of thin air. After a moment, the confusion disappeared from her face, and a smile replaced it. She grabbed Ulquiorra by the hand, pulling him over to the table. "Anyway, let's eat before it gets cold!"

The table was roughly one meter on a side, and made of a light-brown wood. Each of the eight place settings had a flat cushion to go with it, which made Ulquiorra frown.

"What's wrong, Ulquiorra-kun?" Orihime asked, noticing his consternation.

"These cushions... we had such things in Hueco Mundo, but I never used them." Orihime's eyes widened in surprise.

"What? Why not?"

"They are a tactical weakness. Should an enemy surprise you while eating, you will have to compensate for it." He said it as though it were the most natural consideration in the world. She frowned sadly and laid her hand on his arm.

"Is that how you see everything?"

He had never liked anyone else touching him... but that was because they were usually trying to kill him. Humans were social creatures, which meant they had to figure out ways to live with each other without giving in to the urge to kill each other. He looked down at her hand.

"In Hueco Mundo, a gesture like this is usually a prelude to an attack."

"You're not in Hueco Mundo anymore, Ulquiorra-kun. Don't you see? You don't have to be afraid anymore." She laid her other hand on his cheek, and he raised his head to look at her. Her cheeks were redder than usual, but she didn't seem to be embarrassed – on the contrary, her eyes were soft and sad. Perhaps the redness was an aftereffect of her earlier blushing. "You don't have to be alone anymore."

Alone and afraid... the very words he had used to describe her condition just before Kurosaki came bursting into the fifth tower to save her. He closed his eyes and remembered. She had explicitly denied being afraid, and her unwavering faith in her friends had made her feel justified in denying that she was alone. Whether she knew it or not, the woman was claiming to have the power to save him as she had once hoped for someone to save her – and as Ulquiorra stared into her eyes, he realized that she knew perfectly well what she was claiming. He also realized that, even if she never found the will to master her offensive technique, she was still far more dangerous than anyone, except possibly Lord Aizen, had given her credit for being. Certainly she was more dangerous than Ulquiorra himself had ever appreciated. He opened his eyes and stepped back, and though her hands remained suspended in midair, their calming touch no longer warmed his arm and cheek. Their warmth wasn't like that of the morning sun, nor was it like the stinging heat of the slap she had given him when he (wrongly, as it turned out) informed her that Nnoitra killed one of her friends; it was something deeper, promising to dispel the chill that had worked its way into his core during his long years in Hueco Mundo. He tried not to think of how badly he wanted to step forward and feel that warmth again, and coldly focused his eyes on the woman.

"Shall I recount your friends who have sworn never to trust me? Shall I recount your friends who have threatened to kill me?" A sorrowful look fell over her face, and the gnawing sensation returned to Ulquiorra's gut. It was strong enough that he had to look away from her, and even then it didn't stop.

"Are you still mad about that? It was just a misunderstanding!" The Arrancar and the human turned in surprise as Matsumoto entered the room, grinning and waving the mistake away with her hand.

"Not on my part," Hitsugaya said, following his subordinate into the room with a frown. Matsumoto pinched his cheek, and the frown became a scowl.

"Aww, don't be like that, Captain. He's really not such a bad guy, right?" She winked at Orihime, who nodded firmly.

"Don't make me regret this," he grumbled, pushing her hand away. Orihime looked puzzled.

"Regret what, Toshiro-kun?" she asked. That was a good question, Ulquiorra thought. Hitsugaya didn't strike him as the kind who regretted things easily.

The boy captain sat cross-legged at the table and closed his eyes, putting a hand to his forehead and sighing. "Sit down, and we can talk about it." He opened his eyes and stared up at Orihime from beneath his eyelids, with a look that was half annoyed and half resigned. "And for the last time, it's _Captain Hitsugaya_."

Matsumoto sat next to him and rubbed his shoulders, smiling up at Orihime and Ulquiorra. "Don't mind the captain; yesterday was a hard day for him."

"I see," Ulquiorra said flatly. "Did you get torn in half yesterday, Captain Hitsugaya?" The boy captain looked up at him in surprise, but it only lasted for a moment before his perpetual frown reasserted itself.

"No."

"Then it would appear my day was harder than yours." With that, he knelt at the table across from Hitsugaya and began eating. He had yet to master using chopsticks, having found the western trio of knife, fork, and spoon more versatile and easier to handle, but he had practice enough to avoid making a fool of himself. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, but of the three sets, only one bothered him. He looked to his left, and Orihime was there, kneeling next to him and directing at him that mixture of frown and pout that he had never seen from anyone else. He had seen it on her, though: it was the face she had made when he incapacitated the two low-ranking Shinigami who guarded her as she traveled between worlds. He had expected fear, and she had shown him defiance. That was the first time she impressed him with her strength of will, but it would not be the last. "I have offended you," he said, setting down his chopsticks. It wasn't a question.

"I didn't think you were the kind to wallow in self-pity," she said sharply. Where in the world did she get that idea?

"I am not wallowing," he said, a bit too quickly for his own comfort. Again he found himself going against his own natural inclination not to rush in order to satisfy the woman – yet another piece of evidence that she was dangerous – and again he questioned the wisdom of his decision to betray Lord Aizen. Well, it wasn't as though he could undo that decision; he would simply have to find some way to live with it. And for the moment, that meant finding some way to placate the one person in the world of the living who was solidly on his side. "Someone who is torn in half has a harder day than someone who is not. Surely you can see that."

* * *

><p>"Not everything has to be a contest, Ulquiorra-kun!" She couldn't deny that his reasoning made sense, but even so, couldn't he see what kind of effect his careless words had? Toshiro-kun was already feeling grumpy, and as much as she enjoyed watching Rangiku-san's teasing of him, it wasn't helping matters.<p>

"Contest?" He paused, staring at her. "No... that would imply that he could contend with me."

"You don't get it, do you? If you go around trying to prove you're better than everyone else all the time, no one will want to be around you!"

"Why don't they just prove that they are better than me?"

"Because... life is no fun when it's all about competing."

He looked down at his plate. "Fun?" he whispered. The very word sounded strange on his lips, but he didn't have time to ponder it before Orihime grasped his arm. He looked over to find her smiling widely at him.

"Yes, Ulquiorra-kun. You're human now. You can have fun." The smile disappeared, and she looked concerned. "Also, you need to learn how not to compete all the time. This looking down on everyone around you..." She trailed off, not sure how to finish. The lesson was important enough that she didn't want to turn him off by chastising him too harshly, but at the same time, she wanted it to leave an impression on him.

"It gets old, fast," Matsumoto supplied cheerfully; Hitsugaya and Orihime both nodded. Ulquiorra thought silently for a moment, looking at something that wasn't there, before focusing again on Orihime.

"The shapeshifter rebuked me for something similar yesterday. This modesty… it's a crucial part of being human?"

Orihime nodded with a relieved smile. This was the first time he'd grasped something about being human, and he hadn't even been in the world of the living for twenty-four hours yet. "Yes, that's it!"

"I see." He rose and bowed to Orihime at the waist, one arm over his torso. "Then I ask that you help me learn it."

She waved her hands frantically as Rangiku-san collapsed in laughter. "U-Ulquiorra-kun, what are you bowing for?"

"You understand this world's customs much more thoroughly than I do. I acknowledge you as my superior during my time in the human world." He looked down at her as he said that, keeping his eyes on hers, and spoke without a hint of hesitation or uncertainty. Orihime knew that such words couldn't necessarily be trusted; she had made her declaration of unswerving loyalty to Aizen in the same sort of voice, without meaning a word of it. Even so, however, she knew that Kurosaki-kun was right: Ulquiorra-kun might be able to mask his feelings with unmatched skill, but he didn't lie. She blushed and reached up to take his hand, pulling him down gently. He knelt beside her and looked on expectantly.

"Ulquiorra-kun… the word you're looking for is 'friend,'" she smiled. "Friends may have friendly rivalries, like the one between Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun, but this talk about allies and superiors doesn't matter to them."

"Well, that's mostly true," said a new voice from the doorway, "but between Ishida and me, we all know who'd win in a fight." Orihime turned to the door with a huge smile.

"Kurosaki-kun!" He stood in the doorway with a wide grin on his face, and Ishida-kun stood just behind him, looking serious as ever.

"Yes, Kurosaki," said Ishida-kun, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "we _do_ all know who would win."

"What are you doing here?" Toshiro-kun asked. Kurosaki-kun ran a hand through his hair in embarrassment.

"Well, we kind of fell asleep sitting against the front of the shop." He jerked a thumb in Ishida-kun's direction. "You should've heard Ishida snoring. With all the lumber he sawed, he could build a fire that would burn brighter than the pride of the Quincy."

"Did you spend all night thinking that up?" Ishida-kun asked dryly. Kurosaki-kun just grinned.

"Anyway, we woke up just a minute ago when Urahara came racing by us, with Shihouin roaring after him. You guys know what that's about?" Orihime and Ulquiorra looked at each other, then back at the two new arrivals.

"No idea," Orihime said.

"She seemed to be upset about Urahara's revealing a combat weakness of hers," Ulquiorra put in.

"Combat weakness?" Hitsugaya asked, his interest suddenly piqued. "I didn't know she had any to speak of."

"Yeah," Orihime answered. "He said that they were doing combat maneuvers last night, and mentioned that her rear defenses were really weak." Matsumoto, who had been sipping her juice quietly, suddenly choked on it. Five pairs of eyes locked on her.

"What's wrong, Rangiku-san?" Orihime asked when her coughing died down.

"I'll tell you later," she said, taking another drink. For some reason, Orihime felt as though she were hiding her face with the cup. She shook her head; whatever it was, she trusted Rangiku-san to tell her about it later, so for the moment she waved Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun to sit down with them.

"Thanks," Kurosaki-kun smiled, looking hungrily at the stir-fried vegetables and rice balls. He sat down cross-legged, clapped his hands together, and bowed his head. "Thanks for the food!" he said with gusto, and began gobbling it down. Orihime giggled; she hadn't seen Kurosaki-kun eat since before leaving for Hueco Mundo, and it was good to see him bringing the same energy to it that he brought to everything else.

"One would think you'd never tasted food before," said Ishida-kun as he knelt next to Kurosaki-kun... and then his stomach growled. The others laughed, apart from Ulquiorra-kun, of course – even Toshiro-kun cracked a smile. Ishida-kun coughed and looked away from the group, his cheeks pink.

"It's difficult to maintain one's dignity in this group," Ulquiorra-kun said as Ishida-kun picked up his chopsticks. The Quincy looked up, his eyebrows momentarily raised in surprise.

"Quite," he said noncommittally, before tucking in to his own meal, and the others at the table followed suit. Something occurred to Orihime, and she looked over at Ulquiorra with a worried expression.

"Um, Ulquiorra-kun... is that satisfying you?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and her stomach started doing backflips. What if he thought the question was rude? She waved her hands and began babbling. "I mean, it's not what you usually eat, but I don't think Urahara-san has any of that here, and he might be able to get some the next time a Hollow invades here, but that might be a while, and I really don't want you to go hungry all that time-"

"Woman," he said softly, turning fully to her and taking her hands in his. Orihime's babbling ceased. "It will suffice. I don't know how, but this gigai appears to allow me to subsist on human food."

"Oh..." Orihime replied. She wanted to say more, but the intensity of Ulquiorra-kun's gaze was causing a lump in her throat. She gulped hard, but it didn't help, and she wasn't sure how much time passed before Ishida-kun coughed. Orihime realized that she was holding hands with Ulquiorra-kun in front of the others, and frantically pulled her hands from his, picking up her chopsticks and eating more quickly than she had before. Toshiro-kun's frown was a little deeper than usual, Rangiku-san was grinning with one side of her mouth, Ishida-kun's face remained neutral, and Kurosaki-kun... looked chagrined? Why would he look like that? For his part, Ulquiorra-kun resumed eating at his unhurried pace as though nothing had happened.

Ishida raised an eyebrow. "Have you eaten human food before?" he asked.

"Aizen occasionally invited the Espadas to share the dishes prepared for him," Ulquiorra answered. "They were nourishing, but inefficient."

"Inefficient?" Ichigo interjected, his embarrassment at the hand-holding being replaced by curiosity, for which Orihime was glad.

"Hollow flesh was more filling, and appropriately powerful souls even more so." And suddenly Orihime wasn't so glad. She and her friends put their chopsticks down to gape at Ulquiorra, who looked around without the slightest sign that he had said anything strange. Of course, Orihime realized: to him, it wasn't strange.

"Ulquiorra-kun," she laughed nervously, "that's not really good breakfast conversation." He focused on her without changing his expression.

"My powers are suppressed. Even if I wanted to consume souls, I could not." Orihime turned pink. Of course, that made sense.

"E-Even so," she replied, "people get uncomfortable when you talk about eating your own kind, let alone human souls!"

"Well," Matsumoto cut in, grinning, "I'd say you owe Urahara a 'thank you' for providing you with such a useful gigai."

"Gratitude would be appropriate here?" Ulquiorra asked, looking over at her. Matsumoto nodded. "I see."

Ichigo stood and stretched. "Well," he said, "I should get going. I need to see if the Visoreds are up for training today." Orihime smiled brightly at that. The things she had criticized him for during his battle with Ulquiorra were true, and they needed to be said, but he had promised to do his best to make sure they wouldn't happen again, and it looked like he was determined to move forward rather than dwelling on the past. She was glad for that.

"Do your best, Kurosaki-kun!" she said.

"Thanks, Inoue," he grinned. In the doorway, he stopped and said, without turning around, "Hey, Ulquiorra... you should see if Urahara will let you join us." Everyone looked up at him, and the surprise was plain on Orihime's and Matsumoto's faces. Hitsugaya and Ishida did a better job of concealing their shock, and Ulquiorra looked impassive as ever, but Ichigo had his undivided attention.

"That's an unexpected invitation," he said.

"Yeah, well... you heard what Hirako said yesterday about controlling your Hollow nature. If you don't seek them out, I have a feeling they're gonna seek you out, and if that happens, they may not be in a friendly mood. Besides," he continued, looking over his shoulder with a wry grin, "if you don't practice, you're not gonna be much good when we fight Aizen."

Orihime's jaw dropped. Apart from Rangiku-san, that was the closest any of her friends had come to openly accepting Ulquiorra-kun. She turned to the former Espada with a huge smile.

"Say yes, Ulquiorra-kun! This is the perfect chance to show them you don't have to kill!"

"Sparring..." he said, trailing off into a long silence. Everyone watched him expectantly. He turned to Hitsugaya. "You are dead-set against letting any Arrancars live in this world. What do you think of this?"

Hitsugaya folded his arms. "Matsumoto and I had a long talk about you last night, and I've decided that for now, there's no point in deliberately antagonizing you any further. If you want to do this, go ahead."

"Oh, Toshiro-kun!" Orihime squealed, leaning across the table to hug him. Unfortunately, because of the awkward angle, Hitsugaya's face ended up buried in a very embarrassing place. He flailed his arms and screamed muffled screams into Orihime's ample cleavage, which made her release her hold, giggling. "That tickles!" She calmed down as Hitsugaya brushed himself off, regained his composure, and pointedly ignored Matsumoto's uncontrollable laughter. But... something was strange, Orihime thought. "Toshiro-kun, what made you decide to trust him?"

"I don't," he said with his usual frown. "I trust Matsumoto."

"Aww, thanks, Captain!" Matsumoto grinned. Hitsugaya ignored her.

"Even if she is allergic to paperwork-"

"Hey!" The grin became a frown-pout.

"-and drinks on the job-"

"You're not making your precious subordinate feel valued here, you know," she grumbled, crossing her arms and looking away.

"-there's no one I'd rather have watching my back." That stopped Matsumoto's grousing, and she looked at Hitsugaya with genuine surprise and thankfulness. She knew he meant it, but it wasn't like the Captain to pay such a strong compliment out loud, and in public. He glanced her way with a raised eyebrow, and she raised a fist to her mouth and coughed. Hitsugaya focused again on Orihime. "She knows when a threat needs to be answered immediately, and when it's best to sit back and watch." He turned to Ulquiorra. "I don't trust you, Hollow... but for now, I'll sit back and watch you."

The silence stretched as Ulquiorra and Hitsugaya stared at each other. Finally, Ulquiorra picked up his chopsticks again. "Soul Society made a fine choice when it made you a captain," he said, and took the last bite of his vegetables. For the first time that morning, it was Hitsugaya's turn to look stunned, and Orihime and Matusmoto joined him. Ishida narrowed his eyes, and Ichigo grinned.

"Well, guess that's my cue to leave," he said from the doorway. "Can you still sense reiatsu?" Ulquiorra looked up at him and nodded. "Good. If you get the okay from Urahara, come down to the warehouse district at the edge of town. We'll be in the one that's blazing reiatsu." Ulquiorra nodded again, and Ichigo left. The meal was almost finished at that point, and the rest of it went by silently.

"Woman," Ulquiorra said as Orihime popped the last of her rice into her mouth, "what am I to do for clothes?" Orihime looked at him in surprise; she hadn't even thought about that. But then she imagined the possibilities, and a wide smile replaced her surprised look.

"I can take you shopping!" she cried.

"Shopping?" He sounded as though he had never heard the word before, and Orihime's smile grew bigger. Of course he hadn't shopped before. She would have a chance to show him something new.

"Yeah, it'll be great! I've got all sorts of money saved up, so you can pay me back once we find you a part-time job-"

"Part-time job?" he asked, and she giggled at his skeptical tone.

"Of course, silly! That's part of being a high-school student-"

"High-school student?" he asked, and she giggled some more.

"You sound like that Solid Serpent guy!" Orihime put on her best serious face and lowered her voice, trying her best to sound like a battle-scarred veteran. "'Metal Axle?'" Ulquiorra-kun stared blankly at her.

"Inoue..." Ishida-kun said quietly, "you're doing it again." Orihime looked at him, confused.

"Doing what?" He looked away from her, blushing slightly.

"Saying things that... make sense only to you," he continued. Orihime's shoulders slumped. Before going to Hueco Mundo, she had promised herself she wouldn't do that so much. Then she realized that video games were one more thing about being human that she could show Ulquiorra, and she felt buoyant again.

"Well, never mind that!" she said, taking Ulquiorra-kun's hand and rising. "We have to get you some clothes!" She began pulling him toward the door, but he said something that stopped her cold.

"What am I to wear while we shop?" She turned to him; she hadn't thought of that.

"Um... those robes suit you," she said. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Orihime mentally smacked her forehead. She'd forgotten how much Ulquiorra-kun didn't like being reminded of his ties to Shinigami.

"Perhaps... but I will still draw excessive attention wearing them."

"No problem!" came a boisterous voice from the doorway. Orihime turned to find Urahara-san standing there, rubbing a bruise on his face. Yoruichi was nowhere to be seen. "You can borrow some of my clothes!"

Ulquiorra looked at the shopkeeper's white-and-green-striped hat, his clogs, his olive-green shirt and pants, and his black coat with white diamonds along the bottom. "I doubt they would draw any less attention than these robes," he said flatly. Urahara laughed and fanned himself.

"Oh, these are just my fun clothes! I do have a more subdued wardrobe, believe it or not!" Ulquiorra just blinked.

"Very well," he said, removing his hand from Orihime's and approaching the door. Urahara stepped aside to let him pass, and when Ulquiorra entered the hallway, he said, "By the way... if you decide you want to train with Kurosaki-san and the rest, I'll allow it one condition."

"Thank you, Urahara-san!" Orihime smiled, throwing herself into hugging him. Urahara patted her hair and smiled down at her. Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder at them.

"What condition?" he asked, and Urahara grinned, hiding his eyes with the brim of his hat.

"I get to watch."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Man, that Urahara sure is a troublemaker, isn't he?


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note**: Well, that was a bit of a schedule slip, wasn't it? My sincerest apologies to all the readers who enjoy this story and look forward to more of it, and my humblest thanks to everyone who has continued to encourage me by adding the story to his or her alerts or favorites list even during the dry spell. The pace should begin picking up within the next chapter or two; in the meantime, please continue to enjoy the peace and quiet... while it lasts. *evil chuckle*

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

The woman looked up at Urahara in a mixture of thankfulness and wonder. The gratitude didn't surprise Ulquiorra, though he couldn't say he understood such a thing, but the wonder did. If Ulquiorra were going to fight against Kurosaki or the Visored, he would need to leave his gigai, at least temporarily, and resume his Arrancar form. If the shopkeeper, who after all had volunteered to take responsibility for Ulquiorra during his time in the human world, planned to allow such a thing, he would naturally want to oversee the results.

"Urahara-san... are you saying you want to train Ulquiorra-kun?" she asked. He grinned down at her.

"I'd say it's more like supervising. After all, Soul Society probably wouldn't look kindly on a Shinigami training an Arrancar, even if they are both..." he glanced in Ulquiorra's direction, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat, "...exiles."

"That's putting it mildly," Hitsugaya said flatly. "You're playing a dangerous game, Urahara."

"On the contrary," Urahara responded, his grin modulating into an enigmatic smile. "There's no game here – I'm as earnest as I've ever been." Hitsugaya scoffed, and Matsumoto hid a giggle behind her hand.

"And how many rice cakes will that buy?" she asked saucily, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Urahara chuckled, but didn't say anything.

Ulquiorra merely stared at Urahara. The shopkeeper was hiding more than his eyes, but he didn't seem like the kind who would be amenable to a direct approach. If Ulquiorra wanted to learn his secrets, he would simply have to bide his time and observe. That was fine with him; sooner or later, his eyes would see everything there was to see.

"Very well," he said at length. "May I get changed?"

Urahara laughed and waved his fan. "Of course, of course – just follow me!" Ulquiorra followed him out of the room, feeling two sets of suspicious eyes on him as he left. The Quincy and the boy captain, no doubt. He contemplated their thoroughgoing mistrust for him, and wondered again how the woman could possibly believe that he would ever be accepted either by humans or by Shinigami.

* * *

><p>Orihime watched as Ulquiorra left, and then turned to her friends.<p>

"Isn't this great?" she enthused. "Ulquiorra-kun will get to be with people just like him! There's so much they can show each other!"

Ishida adjusted his glasses with a grim look. "Perhaps. I think it would be generous to call that a best-case scenario."

Her face fell. "Ishida-kun... just now, didn't you and he have a moment when you understood each other?" The hard sharpness of his eyes transfixed her; she'd never seen him look so merciless.

"We shared a momentary embarrassment, nothing more. I am a Quincy, first and foremost. My people are sworn to destroy Hollows wherever we find them." His eyes softened slightly, and he looked away from her in mingled anger and regret. "I know you believe in him, and that nothing I can do will change your mind... but the only reason he's still alive is because he's too powerful for me to kill him."

"Ishida-kun..." A strange note entered her voice, one that Ishida had never heard in it before. It was partly despair, but overlaid on top of it was the determination to fight on in spite of all the things that conspired to crush her, even if that meant fighting the whole world. There were tears in her eyes, but her voice didn't waver. Ishida stared at her in wonder as he realized that, for the first time, Orihime sounded like a warrior. "You were there. Couldn't you feel it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said cautiously. This newly-determined Orihime was someone whose capabilities he didn't know, and he had a sinking feeling that she might be able to push him a great distance along paths he would rather not travel.

"Hueco Mundo. It's bleak, and cold, and there's only desert, as far as the eye can see. It's always night there, and the moon never changes. It's a world full of souls who have lost everything, who are so drowned in despair that they never even imagine they might live differently. If they had just one person, one person in all the world who cared enough to reach out to them..." She bit her lower lip, and her voice wavered. "I'm not saying there aren't any monsters among them... but there are monsters among humans, too. Should we give up on ourselves because of them? Should we wipe ourselves out because of them?"

"Inoue-san," Ishida said firmly, "those are two completely different things. Hollows are creatures of instinct, nothing more. The lowest of them barely even count as conscious-"

"And what about the highest of them?" Orihime cried, her voice once again strong. "Ishida-kun, Ulquiorra-kun is the only person I've met – in _any_ world – who's as smart as you."

"Urahara might have something to say about that," Hitsugaya remarked dryly, but Ishida looked away from Orihime in surprise and, blushing, coughed into his hand. Orihime smiled at that; Ishida-kun was always so self-conscious when she paid him compliments, though he didn't react that way when other people complimented him. She wondered why that was; maybe it had something to do with the Quincy code. They were kind of like manga superheroes, so maybe they were supposed to maintain secret identities. For that, they would need people not to praise them for their Quincy powers, so they could've set up a general rule against other people praising them for any reason, in order to avoid mentioning their powers as the reason for the prohibition. That secrecy was all the more important now that he was the last of the Quincies, and Orihime gasped at the thought that she might one day blow his cover where his arch-enemies could hear.

"Don't worry, Ishida-kun!" she blurted, her hands clenched before her in utterly earnest fists. "I swear I won't reveal your secret identity to any supervillains!" Silence greeted her proclamation, and she looked around to find Rangiku-san biting her lip, Toshiro-kun raising a skeptical eyebrow, and Ishida-kun, in a reversal of his usual self-control, staring at her in complete bafflement. She slapped her hands over her mouth and lowered them slowly, gaping at her friends in chagrin. "I did it again, didn't I?" she whispered. She tried so hard not to say things that only made sense in her own mind, but the trouble was that they _did_ make sense in her own mind. How was she supposed to know when they would sound strange to other people?

Ishida regained his composure and coughed into his fist. "Anyway, your compassion is impressive, but it would take a great deal to convince me that it isn't misguided." He paused and shook his head. "No... the truth is, I don't think anything could convince me of that."

"Then you should come and watch him train!" Orihime insisted. "I don't understand it, but you and Kurosaki-kun both believe you can better understand someone through fighting. Whether you spar with him, or just watch him, maybe you'll... maybe you'll..." Maybe he would what? Embrace a Hollow? The very idea was absurd, and in spite of herself, Orihime could feel her resolve crumbling.

"Come to understand him like you do?" Ishida asked. Orihime gathered her resolve and nodded firmly. That was one of the reasons she admired Ishida-kun; apart from the times he got embarrassed around her, he was never at a loss for words. He didn't say anything, but the severe look in his eyes, mixed with a hint of apology, left no doubts about his lack of belief in that prospect.

"Understanding between a Quincy and a Hollow..." said a familiar voice from behind her. Orihime's face lit up as she turned to find her friend, the Shinigami Kuchiki Rukia, who had joined in the expedition to Hueco Mundo to rescue her. Behind her, filling the doorway, was her human friend Yasutora Sado, and though his eyes were hidden by his shaggy brown hair, as usual, she could see that he was smiling warmly. Although Sado had changed into a pair of light-brown slacks and a dark-green polo shirt, Rukia was still wearing her Shinigami robes. "I see Hueco Mundo hasn't damaged your optimism, Inoue," Rukia continued. Her smile was crooked, but her dark brown eyes were shining in genuine happiness.

"Kuchiki-san! Sado-kun!" Orihime rushed to embrace her friends. It didn't work, of course; it was hard enough for her to fit her arms around Sado's broad frame all by itself, and as small as Rukia was, even she was impossible for Orihime to include in a hug that also involved the largest of her friends. She settled for hugging Rukia and Sado in turn, and smiled broadly at them. "When did you get back?"

"Yesterday, the same time as Nii-sama and the rest who were in Hueco Mundo," Rukia answered, stepping back from the embrace. "He and Lieutenant Abarai are back in Soul Society now, dealing with the aftermath of yesterday's events." Orihime looked puzzled.

"Well... now that you mention it, I did feel you there, on the edge of the battlefield," she answered. "Why did you stay so far away?" Rukia's smile faded a little.

"Nii-sama told us to stay back – that it was a fight for captain-class Shinigami, and that anyone lower than that had no business being there. He wasn't pleased that we stayed as close as we did." Orihime wasn't surprised to hear that; Rukia's brother, Kuchiki Byakuya, believed more strongly in order and discipline than anyone Orihime had ever met – so strongly, in fact, that when Rukia first deputized Ichigo as a substitute Shinigami, and Soul Society decided that she should be executed for deciding such an important matter by herself, Byakuya had sworn to execute her with his own hands, if need be. Only later did Rukia, Orihime, and their friends learn that Byakuya, beyond his usual beliefs, had made a very specific promise years ago to his dead parents that he would never again break a law. Moreover, he had made a promise to his late wife that he would adopt her sister, Rukia, as his own sister, thereby raising her from a street-dwelling orphan to a member of one of Soul Society's great noble houses, and that he would protect her as though she were his own sister.

Normally, those two promises did not clash, and Rukia insisted that having to choose between the two had torn her brother apart. However, it still took Orihime a long time to forgive him, which she finally did only at Rukia's urging, and even then it wasn't complete forgiveness. Orihime couldn't help contrasting his behavior with that of her own elder brother, Sora. He took Orihime away from their alcoholic father and prostitute mother when Orihime was just three years old, and promised her that he would always take care of her. Even after he died, his attachment to her was strong enough that he couldn't move on peacefully to the afterlife, and became a Hollow because of it. Of course, Orihime never wanted that for him – she wanted him to be able to let go – but the love between them was strong enough that when Orihime appealed to it, Sora remembered himself and overcame his violent instincts long enough to allow Ichigo, who at that time had just recently been made a Shinigami, to perform the soul burial on him, cleansing him of his Hollow nature and allowing him to move on to Soul Society. Although Orihime had mostly forgiven Byakuya, the contrast between his willingness to sacrifice Rukia for his sake, and Sora's willingness to sacrifice himself for Orihime's sake, left a bad taste in her mouth whenever she thought about it.

"Well, Aizen and his followers _are_ powerful," Orihime began, frowning in consternation, "but isn't that a reason for everyone to fight them?"

"On the contrary," Sado said, his smile disappearing. "We were nearly killed just by fighting Espadas. Trying to fight Aizen head-to-head would've been asking to get killed." He spoke in his usual quiet manner, but the somber tone of his voice left no room for argument, and Rukia nodded solemnly without taking her eyes off Orihime.

"Your friend is correct," said a voice from behind Sado, and he and Rukia turned to find Ulquiorra standing in the hallway, with Urahara on his left. He directed his attention toward Rukia and Sado. "For you, attacking Aizen would have been a mistake."

Orihime, who was used to seeing Urahara in eccentric clothing, was a little surprised to find that he had indeed provided an ordinary outfit for the former Espada. Although Orihime missed his Espada clothes, particularly the tailcoat-like top, which she thought looked quite elegant on him, she had to admit that the plain black T-shirt and the faded denim jeans suited him well. The only downside was that, since Urahara was about 180 centimeters and seventy kilograms, which made him roughly fifteen centimeters taller and fifteen kilograms heavier than Ulquiorra, the clothes didn't fit at all. Ulquiorra had done what he could by cinching a belt all the way and by rolling up his pantlegs, but there was nothing he could do about virtually swimming in the shirt, or the extra fabric that hung around his legs. Orihime had a sudden image of him in a second-hand store by himself, and, having no idea how to shop for clothes, choosing that outfit deliberately. She had to stifle a giggle and immediately felt embarrassed, wondering if anyone noticed, but their eyes were all on Ulquiorra. As uncomfortable as his clothes must have been, he stood as coolly as ever, with his hands in his pockets.

"I thought you said you defected because you believed Aizen would lose," Hitsugaya asked. It might've been wishful thinking on Orihime's part, but his voice held more curiosity, mixed with his usual grumpiness, than outright hostility. Maybe he really would try to back off – not that she doubted his word, of course, but from the hostility with which he had greeted Ulquiorra, she expected that he would be much more reluctant about easing up on him. From the corner of her eye, she saw Matsumoto trying rather unsuccessfully to hide a smile behind her hand, and realized that Hitsugaya's trust in his lieutenant must have been even greater than she imagined. Silently, Orihime thanked her friend again for going out on a limb for Ulquiorra's sake.

"I believe there are people on your side who are capable of matching him," he said without taking his eyes off Rukia. "You aren't among them."

"But that's not what you said," Orihime whispered, looking past Rukia. Her friends looked at her in surprise, and Rukia stepped aside as Ulquiorra's attention shifted away from her, focusing on Orihime as she focused on him.

"What did you say?" he asked quietly. His voice was neutral, but Orihime recognized it as a carefully composed neutrality, rather than the detached neutrality he usually possessed. He had heard her, she was certain of it, and what she said had hit a nerve. He wasn't asking because he wondered what she said; he wanted to hear her reasons for saying it. She looked at him imploringly, but with firmness as well.

"That's not what you said. Don't you remember, Ulquiorra-kun? You said that the heart would allow us to defeat Aizen." Her heart began to race as she sensed that the question they had stumbled onto was much more important than it seemed at first. "How could you forget something so important?"

* * *

><p><em>Damn<em>, Ulquiorra thought. _How _could_ I forget something so important_? Of course the woman was right. On their own, her friends could hardly win against the weakest of the Espadas; fighting Lord Aizen would have been hopeless. If anything gave them a chance, it was the bonds between them that the woman referred to as the heart. That was his very reason for defecting... wasn't it? To better understand those bonds? Ulquiorra stared at the woman, and realized he didn't know. His blood flowed faster, his breath grew shallower, and for a moment, he felt as though he were back in the garganta, with the dizziness and terror of holding her hand as she walked closely – too closely, much too closely – beside him.

"Why are you asking such a pointless thing?" he asked coldly. Not the most elegant response, but Ulquiorra was pleased with it anyway when the woman looked thoroughly surprised. If his many fights had taught him one thing, it was never to let anyone keep him off-balance; that was a sure route to defeat. The easiest way to counteract such an unfavorable situation, of course, was to get one's opponent off-balance in turn. That said, he felt that gnawing sensation in his gut, which was becoming unsettlingly familiar, when the woman's surprise gave way to a sad frown. Why was he thinking of her as his opponent? Hadn't he acknowledged her as his superior because she was solidly on his side? Looking at her just made that gnawing worse, and before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself looking away.

"Ulquiorra-kun?" she asked, sorrow plain in her voice. She had no business making him feel so unlike himself, and he felt a flash of resentment toward her. However, that flash almost immediately vanished, leaving an exponentially more intense gnawing. What was that feeling? Regret? That was close, but not quite right: he had felt regret before, albeit rarely, and it was never so intense, nor so focused on a single person. Sooner or later, he would have to give that feeling a name. For the moment, all he knew was that it was unpleasant, and that it occurred whenever he hurt the woman, even if the wound was not physical. Perhaps, after he determined what that feeling was, he would be able to deal it more effectively _ex post facto_. For the time being, he would just have to be careful about not hurting her. At last he managed to collect himself to look at her again, and was relieved to see that her sorrow had visibly diminished, though she was still slightly frowning.

"A 'pointless question'?" Rukia asked, folding her arms coldly and pivoting so she could easily look back and forth between Ulquiorra and Orihime by turning her head. Her glare was fixed and unmerciful. "I'd say it's entirely relevant. It's not as though we've had waves of friendly Arrancars joining us."

"You suspect my reasons for defecting," Ulquiorra said. It wasn't a question, and Rukia didn't bother nodding. Ulquiorra wasn't offended; it was perfectly natural for a Shinigami to mistrust a Hollow. He would be disappointed in her if she didn't suspect him. "Then let me ask you this: why would a double agent give up so much of his power, when he could spy in secret without such disadvantages?"

"Psychological research," Rukia answered without pause. "That's easily the most important reason I can think of. The closer you get to your intended targets, the better you can understand them."

Ulquiorra looked at her silently for half a minute or so. "Very good," he said finally, glancing over her shoulder at Hitsugaya. "You're thinking like a captain." He focused back on Rukia. "But you're wrong. As I said, I came here because I want to understand the heart."

"Right," Rukia said, plainly not believing a word of it. "Working against you directly would undermine my orders, but I'll have my eye on you."

"Get in line," Hitsugaya interjected dryly. Ulquiorra simply looked at Sado. An ordinary human, by all appearances, but he was formidable enough that it took Nnoitra, the late Quinta Espada, to stop him, and he survived a direct hit from Nnoitra long enough for the Shinigami of the Fourth Division to heal him. What did he think about the matter?

"What about you? I've heard plenty of opinions from Shinigami, but the only human friend of hers I've heard from is the Quincy."

"I don't start trouble," the tall half-Mexican answered, calm and quiet as ever. He turned his head so that one eye was clearly visible to Ulquiorra, though the other was still hidden by his hair. "But I do my best to finish it."

"I see," Ulquiorra nodded. That was a fair response, and much friendlier than some he had received.

"What does he mean, 'I see'?" Matsumoto, looking annoyed, whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear. "That didn't explain anything!"

"It's like they're competing to see who can be the most laconic," Hitsugaya agreed, a large sweatdrop forming on his forehead.

"Well, now that that's settled, I believe you had some clothes to buy!" Urahara said brightly, waving away the objections. "And to that end," he said, retrieving a small, rectangular object from inside his coat and holding it up with a grin, "this ought to help." Ulquiorra had no idea what the object was, but the woman gasped when she saw it, and Matsumoto clapped her hands together, grinning hungrily.

"But that's..." she whispered.

"My credit card?" He chuckled for a moment before entering the room to stand before Orihime. He held the card out to her and spoke with an air of mock solemnity. "I am entrusting you with this in faith that you will use it wisely."

Ulquiorra leaned over to examine the object. It was a small piece of plastic with some numbers embossed on it, as well as the shopkeeper's name and an expiration date. "We will be able to acquire clothing with this?"

"That's right," Urahara grinned. "Just make sure you select revolving payment." Ulquiorra had no idea what he meant, but the woman seemed to understand, or at least understand enough to look troubled about it.

"But Urahara-san," she said, frowning up at the shopkeeper, "I've got money saved up-"

"And if you were buying clothes for yourself, I'd tell you to use it," he answered, and patted Ulquiorra on the shoulder with his free hand. "But as it is, I'll take it out of this guy's paycheck."

"Paycheck?" Ulquiorra asked, looking over and up at the shopkeeper, who was now standing on his right. He was intrigued enough that he didn't even think to shrug the man's hand off his shoulder.

"Well, someone told me recently that it would be a good idea to have an underling who can clean and organize the storage area," he responded jovially. "I don't know anyone who would do that for free, do you?"

"Are you asking me to serve you?" Ulquiorra asked, turning to face the shopkeeper head-on. Urahara laughed, looking surprised.

"We call it a job," he responded.

"I've heard of those. Humans work for money, and then trade it for things they need and want. It's a way of mediating their predatory impulses, of asserting power over each other without resorting to open violence." He paused. "Will this job decrease your desire to tear me apart?"

Urahara looked astonished, then doubled over laughing. When he recovered, he gasped, "That's one way to put it."

"And the money I receive will decrease other people's desire to tear me apart?"

"It never hurts," Urahara grinned wryly.

"Very well. I accept." Ulquiorra turned to Orihime to find her looking utterly astonished. He wasn't sure why; the questions he'd asked were perfectly reasonable. "This 'credit card'... it's a form of money?" Orihime snapped out of her stupefaction and nodded. "Good. Let's be off." Trawling through the shopkeeper's wardrobe had been annoying, and if that experience was any measure, Ulquiorra would prefer to finish this transaction, this "shopping," as soon as possible. How could humans tolerate having to choose their own garments? It seemed grossly inefficient. Shaking off these melancholy musings, Ulquiorra headed for the door, and turned back to find the woman had not moved. "Is there a problem?" he asked. His voice was colder than he intended, and he regretted it, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Um... could we go back to my place first? I'd like to change before we go shopping," she said, clasping her hands together. The former Espada relaxed.

"That's fine," Ulquiorra nodded. That request was reasonable; the woman had not changed clothes since yesterday. The woman smiled and came up to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her. He backed off, feeling uncomfortable with his proximity to her, and turned to the door. "Let's go," he said without waiting for a response, and heard the woman hurrying to keep up with him. It served her right; she had no business getting so close to him. As his acknowledged superior, she should have maintained a decorous distance from her subordinate.

"Ulquiorra-kun!" she called, catching up to him and grabbing hold of his arm.

Besides, he thought as she pressed in close on his left side, her scent was pleasant. It was also distracting, and he studiously avoided thinking about why such a thing might distract him. Whatever the reason, it wasn't something a Hollow had any business contemplating. He tried to move away from her, and found that he was already almost running into the wall to his right. Ulquiorra felt his forehead getting hot, as though he had one of those fevers to which humans were susceptible. Was this gigai capable of getting sick? He would have to ask Urahara about that later, but if so, there was nothing to be done for it now. He looked over at the woman to find her looking ahead and smiling softly, and as he felt his free arm brushing against the wall, while strands of her soft auburn hair tickled his captive arm, he wondered if this were her revenge for abducting her.

_Well-played, woman. Well-played_.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note**: "I'm not dead! I feel happy! I feel happy!" **WHACK! **"Here's your ninepence."

I have some things to say, but I'll save them for the end of this chapter.

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

When they emerged into the mid-morning sunlight, Ulquiorra blinked and looked around. Yesterday he had observed few details, at least by his usual standards, having focused primarily on analyzing his new circumstances and calculating their probable outcomes. Now, however, he could look around for the first time, relatively secure in the knowledge that his presence here would be tolerated. The first word that came to his mind was _tranquil_. Apparently, a great many humans regarded tranquility as a high ideal, difficult to obtain. Although such ideals struck Ulquiorra as absurd, he studied them in detail: they were powerful methods of manipulation, and he might someday need them for that end. The Buddhists, in particular, who called it _nirvana_, believed that tranquility was unreachable without several lifetimes' worth of effort. As the sun warmed his skin, and the gentle breeze tickled his face, he wondered at the foolishness of struggling for several lifetimes to reach a state attainable simply by standing around.

But he had no time to waste on such thoughts when he had so many pressing questions to answer. Within his first twenty-four hours as a human, he had obtained both living quarters and employment, courtesy of the shopkeeper. This both pleased and unsettled Ulquiorra; although his attempt to insinuate himself into the human world was proceeding smoothly, it was obvious Urahara had some sort of plan involving him. For the time being, the nature of that plan eluded him, so he would fall back on a rule that had never yet failed him: wait and see. His eyes missed nothing. If he didn't see something, it didn't exist. Had he not based all of his battles on that rule? And now, living in enemy territory with his powers sealed, seeking the maddeningly elusive answer to a question that was not even fully clear in his own mind, he was in the battle of his life. Trusting his eyes would be more important than ever before.

"Okay, we'll need to get you at least two weeks' worth of clothes. You'll probably want more than that eventually, but that should be enough to get you started." The woman spoke, and his eyes turned to her. She tucked the piece of plastic – the "credit card" – into the front-left pocket of her jeans, and looked expectantly at Ulquiorra. She was right. Unlike the fools who sought tranquility, they had purpose; they had a mission, and there was no time for standing around. He could analyze and contemplate while they walked... but before that, something was bothering him. He extracted his arm from her grip and stepped back from her, slipping his hands into his pockets. She looked surprised and a little sad, but he wasn't about to let that distract him. Having a mission used to be purpose enough in itself, but that was before he met the woman, who had done her best to make him ask why he should choose this course or that, especially when he didn't agree with what was being asked of him. And he didn't agree with this _shopping_ business, so if she didn't like his questioning it, she had only herself to blame.

"In Hueco Mundo, I had only one outfit." He looked her up and down, taking in every detail of her apparel. In addition to her somewhat loose jeans, made of denim that was just beginning to fade, she wore a dark-green, long-sleeved shirt that fit her prodigious bust as loosely as any shirt could, which was to say not much. She also wore a pair of light-brown running shoes, which Ulquiorra couldn't help noticing seemed much less elegant than did the sandals of her Arrancar outfit. In their haste to leave, she had left behind her light-gray winter hat and gloves, and her dark-gray sweater, but that shouldn't be a problem: for December, the day was quite warm. Despite his occasional forays into the human world, he was used to monochromatic surroundings, monochromatic outfits, and monochromatic lives, and this barrage of color was new to him. Apart from the blue of the artificial sky of Las Noches, and the red of spilled blood, it was hard to find any color in Hueco Mundo, unless one counted various shades of black, white, and gray. "And so did you."

Orihime giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, that was one thing I didn't like about your home. Even after you agreed to let me wash it twice a week, it still got boring wearing the same thing every day."

"You never told me." He felt a stirring of anger, and a desire to go back and change things so that she was wrong. He frowned internally at that thought; Ulquiorra had felt regret once or twice, but never before meeting this woman, and he believed it was something a Hollow had no business feeling. What was regret but a sign that the person who felt it was not equal to his deeds? It was absurd for a creature that fed on souls, or on the flesh of his fellows, to feel such a thing.

"You never asked," she responded, and he closed his eyes, sorting through the memories of all the times they had spoken in Hueco Mundo. They were perfectly preserved – all of his memories were; it was one of the advantages of his eyes, which recorded sensory data like twin cameras – and the regret grew stronger as he realized she was right. His Arrancar outfit, being a manifestation of his reiatsu, had been literally a part of him. It developed over time, starting out as a simple, featureless robe, and gradually refining itself as Ulquiorra refined himself. At all times, it was not merely the right clothing for him; it was the _only_ clothing for him, just as his zanpakutou, which contained his own nature as a Hollow, was the only sword for him. Even with his reiatsu sealed by the gigai, he keenly felt the absence of both outfit and sword, two missing pieces of himself. He knew that the woman liked to clean her clothes on a regular basis – she made that very clear almost immediately after receiving her Arrancar uniform – but it never occurred to him that wearing the same outfit, day after day, might in itself be unwelcome, even if it were clean.

"That's true," he said, opening his eyes and looking at her. She looked wistful and more than a little sad, and his regret became more acute. He decided that shopping could wait a little longer; with so many questions calling for his attention, now was as good a time as any to start getting answers. "Why are you sad?" She started at the question, presumably because she hadn't expected him to ask anything like that, but recovered quickly and gave a smile that was quite obviously forced.

"Not sad, exactly. I was just thinking... it's going to take a long time to get you adjusted to human life."

"Then tell me," he said bluntly, and she looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Tell you?" She thought she knew what he meant, but wanted to be sure. Even for her, he could at times be difficult to read, and misreading him was apt to leave him sour, at best.

"When I do something wrong, tell me. Furthermore, I'm not well-versed in human etiquette, but I understand making recompense for injuries is a crucial part of it. So... if there's a way for me to do that, tell me that as well." Orihime bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling, and she mostly succeeded, but Ulquiorra noticed details most people would miss.

"You're laughing at me," he frowned.

"I'm not!" she insisted, even as the smile forced its way onto her face.

"You think it's funny that I need help."

"I don't!"

He turned away from her and began walking. "Perhaps we should shop for clothes another day, when you are feeling less mirthful. Urahara has a sufficient wardrobe to supply two people."

"Ulquiorra-kun, come back!" Orihime called. He didn't turn, didn't stop, didn't even slow down, and without thinking, she tried a different tack. "Ulquiorra Cifer," she intoned forcefully, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "This is an order from your superior: we are going shopping today, and no amount of pouting will change that." He stopped and turned, his face impassive as ever, and she pressed on, frowning, before she could realize how silly she felt. She'd much rather have Ulquiorra think of her as a friend than a superior, but if that was what it took to get through to him, so be it. "So _get over yourself!_" Not the most eloquent way to finish, but it made its point: Ulquiorra stared at her for half a minute or more in utter silence. Orihime wanted to fidget – she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so awkward – but that would completely undermine everything she had just said, so she forced herself to remain still, and glared at him as best she could. It worked better than she had planned: at length, Ulquiorra composed himself, his placid mask falling back into place, and it was Orihime's turn to be shocked as he withdrew his right hand from his pocket and placed it in a fist over his heart, bowing from the waist at exactly forty-five degrees.

"As you command, Inoue-sama." There was neither irony nor hesitation in his tone, and Orihime knew, without a doubt, that he meant it. She blushed deeply and waved her hand, making a sound that mixed squealing with uneasy laughter.

"Y-You don't have to go that far..."

Was she going to force him to spell it out? Very well, if he must, he must. "When Kurosaki defeated me, he destroyed in one moment the certainties of a lifetime... and Hollows, barring a violent end, have very long lifetimes. But if I have nothing else, I still have commanding and obeying." He straightened up and returned his hand to his pocket. "You are my superior. Why should I not address you appropriately?"

"Well..." She trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

"Go ahead," he prompted her, not sure of what she intended to say.

"For one thing, it makes me think of how you talk about Aizen."

"I see..." he nodded, feeling faintly relieved. The woman had a habit of making him feel as though the ground would drop out from under his feet at any moment, apparently without even trying to do so, but this concern was intelligible. "You're worried that I will betray you, too." He wouldn't, of course, but the foothold was stable, and the ground familiar.

"What? No!" she cried, waving her hands frantically.

"What, then?" he frowned as the foothold proved much less certain than he had anticipated. The woman looked away, clasping her left elbow with her right hand.

"It's just... Aizen doesn't care about anything but his own power. I know you're used to following orders, and if thinking of us as superior and subordinate makes you feel more comfortable, I don't mind it... but if it means thinking of me as your new Aizen, I don't want it." Ulquiorra frowned; of course Aizen cared about nothing but his own power. What else was there? But the woman looked at him, biting her lower lip, and his frown vanished as his eyes widened involuntarily.

For the first time, he could feel it. As surely as the sun's glancing rays and the slight breeze rustling his borrowed shirt, as surely as the weight of Murciélago in his hand or the sting of a terrible wound closing up as quickly as it opened, he could feel something more to life than power. He had no name for it – it might have been the heart, but that seemed unlikely, as it didn't fill him with a foolish desire to risk his life against overwhelming odds – but it pressed in upon him, demanding to be acknowledged. What had been a mere whisper in the back of his mind when he reached out to the woman, asking if she feared him, was now a scream that would surely deafen him unless he found some way to silence it. But the scream had no words, and without words, Ulquiorra was lost. Desperately, he latched on to the one word that suggested itself, even though he still had almost no idea what it meant, and hoped against hope that the woman would understand what _he_ meant.

"Does that mean you want to... be friends?" he said faintly, even as the screaming grew louder. It was absurd; how could that one word cut through such a deafening roar? It was all he could do not to cover his ears with his hands, but of course that wouldn't help: the scream was entirely in his own mind, and he knew it. The woman simply giggled and held out her left hand.

"That's what I've been saying, Ulquiorra-kun." The screaming stopped in an instant, and Ulquiorra breathed a sigh of relief, taking her hand in his, and leaving his other hand in his pocket. They walked along without saying a word for a few minutes. The former Espada looked at the woman, and saw her smiling at a pair of white birds flying overhead.

_So she did understand_.

He realized with a start that he felt gratitude toward her – not a completely unknown feeling for him, but certainly strange, especially since it was directed toward a human. Humans were trash; he had always believed that.

_On the other hand..._

On the other hand, as he had just admitted, the certainties of a lifetime were lying in ruins. He had no way of knowing what would take their place, but perhaps a higher estimate of humans would be among them. And he reflected, as he watched the woman's smile and felt the warmth of her hand in his, that this _tranquility_ idea might have merit after all.

Ulquiorra-kun was so funny, Orihime thought. Had it really taken him so long to understand that she wanted to be friends? But her smile faded as she realized that yes, it probably _had_ taken him so long, and that there were powerful reasons for the delay. As she said to Ishida-kun, Hueco Mundo was a bleak and terrible place, where the utter lack of hope or love did more to make the land black and cold than the unending night ever could. Unconsciously, she squeezed Ulquiorra-kun's hand, partly to reassure herself that he was really there, that he had not been swallowed up into that darkness, but mostly to reassure him that she was there.

He looked over at her with a blank face. "What's on your mind, woman?" She loosened her grip, flustered – just a little, thankfully; she'd had enough of being badly flustered – and forced a smile onto her face.

"Well, I..." She wasn't sure what to say. Of course, she could always reassure him that she was there for him, but he'd already had words to that effect. Now she needed to show him that she was there... but how to do that? Suddenly, it came to her, and her smile transformed from awkward and faltering to positively beaming.

"Yes?" Ulquiorra said, realizing that she'd sorted out her thoughts.

"I was just thinking that you'll need to know your way around if you're going to be living here." She sped up, trading their leisurely stroll for a brisk walk. "Come on, I'll give you a tour!"

He looked confused. "Does this mean we aren't going shopping today?"

"Oh, you're not getting out of it that easily!" she winked. Although there was plenty of space on both sides of them, Ulquiorra felt, just for a moment, as though he were back in the hallway behind Urahara's shop. This time, however, the woman's proximity was reassuring rather than claustrophobic, and Ulquiorra could only muster up a token unease at how readily his attitude had changed. If he wasn't careful, he could end up being ruled by whims, just as Grimmjow had been... yet where the woman was concerned, that fate did not bother him nearly as much as it should. "I just mean that as we walk, I'll point out the sights and some important locations." She frowned a little. "Of course, there's not too much between the shop and my apartment, but I can at least give you directions. You can remember directions, right?"

"Of course," he nodded. Orihime smiled at his agreement, and began talking.

"Urahara-san's shop, of course, is on the east end of town in the Mitsumiya District. There's not much else out this way, though on the north end of this district, Mashiba, there's Himawari Sewing Shop. They've got a bunch of Western-style supplies, and they're open twenty-four hours a day, six days a week. Maybe that's why Ishida-kun goes there all the time-"

"The Quincy shops there?" Ulquiorra frowned slightly at that news, but Orihime didn't notice.

"Oh, definitely! It's his favorite store – whenever anyone asks him why he does so well in the crafts club, he says it's because he shops there. He's just being modest, of course; he does so well because he's so talented, and because he practices every day." She looked over, a sudden idea occurring to her. "Maybe you can get him to sew you something!"

"As a token of our deep and abiding friendship?" he asked flatly. Orihime frowned sadly at his cynicism, but it quickly turned to a frown of puzzlement, and she slowed to a halt. Ulquiorra stopped beside her.

"Ulquiorra-kun... did you just make a joke?"

He looked at her impassively. "Did I laugh?"

"Um... no."

"Did you laugh?"

"No."

"Do jokes not cause laughter?"

"Well, they're supposed to..."

"Then it could not have been a joke." He looked back down the street, in the direction they had been walking. "Besides, I would not do something so frivolous."

Her frown deepened. "Well, I think you should."

He looked back at her. "Should what?"

"Do something frivolous," she answered, the frown turning to a smile. "I know – while we're out shopping today, we'll get ice cream with sprinkles!"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"That's the point – there is no 'why.' It's completely, utterly frivolous." She touched the tip of his nose with the index finger of her free hand and pressed lightly. "That's what makes it fun."

His eyes crossed as they focused on her finger, but his tone was as flat as ever. "I'm uncertain about this 'fun.' It sounds dubious." He paused. "Also, your finger is on my nose."

She pressed a little harder. "You're so funny, Ulquiorra-kun."

"I doubt it. I have it on good authority that I have no sense of humor."

She laughed and pulled her hand back. "That's what makes you funny. Come on, let's get going – it's almost nine already." They resumed walking, and Orihime picked up the tour. "To our left is Mashiba Middle School, where all my friends and I went, though some of us didn't know each other back then. And directly in front of us-" And the flow of her words ceased as the locale in question came into view.

Even without his eidetic memory, Ulquiorra would never forget that place, and he suspected the same was true of the woman. To their left was a sandy area with a quartet of gray stone benches on its perimeter, and six swings, a slide, and a seesaw in the middle. To their right were more benches, and beyond them, a trashcan. The dirt trail under their feet wound its way between the benches and the sandy area, disappearing into the trees that ringed the area. He looked over at the woman, and saw that she was staring into the distance, and possibly into the past. That wasn't surprising. The people of Karakura had done their best to cover up the damage, but the scars remained: recently-lain dirt, recently-planted grass, a section of the seesaw that had, judging by the freshness of the paint, been recently replaced. This was the park where he and Yammy had first encountered Kurosaki, Urahara, Shihouin... and of course, the woman herself.

Ulquiorra watched her silently, wondering how she would react. But she did not react, merely stared, and as the silence stretched out, he felt a growing desire to turn from this place and run at top speed, never to return. It was ridiculous, of course – after killing more Hollows than he could count, including a large percentage of Menos Grandes and Adjuchas, and facing some of the finest Shinigami that Soul Society could boast, he would certainly not be intimidated by a piece of landscaping. Thankfully, the woman finally turned to him.

"Directly ahead of us... is where we first met," she smiled. Ulquiorra, however, frowned at her, and she was confused. "What's wrong?"

"This is where I called you 'trash.' This is where I ordered Yammy to kill you. We have to put that behind us if we're going to be friends, correct?" Orihime opened her mouth, then closed it, frowning in puzzlement, and settled for a simple nod. She wasn't sure where Ulquiorra was going with this, but she thought she had an idea. "But there's a difference between putting the past behind us, and whitewashing it." He removed his hand from hers and slipped it into his pocket, stepping back from her... and in spite of his clothes and his human-looking gigai, Orihime gulped at how much he resembled that first appearance. The cold contempt for everything around him, which she spent the whole of her captivity trying to thaw, was back in full force. "I am a monster... and I treated you monstrously. Any attempt to gloss over that means building on a lie."

"Is that it?" Ulquiorra's cold shields faltered as his eyes widened slightly. Whatever response he had been expecting, that clearly wasn't it. Orihime smiled in relief. "Why did you reach out for me, Ulquiorra-kun?"

He regained his composure, his impassive mask reasserting itself. "What?"

"On top of Las Noches – why did you reach out for me?" Ulquiorra didn't respond, and Orihime continued, building momentum. "Why did you ask whether you frightened me? Why did you throw yourself in Kurosaki-kun's way just as he was about to hit me with a Getsuga Tenshou? And why, when Kurosaki-kun came back in that new Hollow form, did you throw yourself in his way, again, to save me and Ishida-kun?"

"Lord Aizen said-"

"-that I was of no further use to him," Orihime interrupted, and though her smile never wavered, her voice took on a firmer edge. She was Ulquiorra-kun's guide in the human world, and although she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, there were questions that he needed to answer – not just for her sake, but because they would help him answer his own question. As his guide, as his friend, she couldn't allow him to dodge those questions, no matter how uncomfortable he might find them. "You didn't do it for Aizen's sake, Ulquiorra-kun. You did it for your own."

"_My_ sake?" He sounded truly dumbfounded – which was to say his tone raised a bit. Orihime nodded, approaching him slowly so as not to frighten him, and her voice softened again.

"It's because you wanted a second chance. Every one of those things was a way of asking for a second chance... asking for forgiveness."

"Ridiculous," he said, but even he realized he sounded only half-convinced. "Why would a monster want a second chance? And even if he did, why would anyone grant it?"

"Forgiveness is an act of compassion, Ulquiorra-kun. If people deserved it, they wouldn't need it."

His eyes narrowed. "Would you forgive Nnoitra? Knowing that he wanted to rape you, would you give him a second chance?"

Her smile dropped, and her voice turned cold. "He didn't ask for one."

She saw a gleam of wonder in his eyes. "You didn't think I would betray you and your friends. You didn't think I would turn on you at the first opportunity."

Her smile returned, and her voice became warm again. "I was right, wasn't I?"

"You had no way of knowing."

"No. But I believed in you, Ulquiorra-kun."

It made no sense. None of it made any sense. "Why?"

She shrugged. "There were a bunch of little things. By itself, none of them would've meant anything, but together..." She looked him in the eyes and smiled. "I could see you were made for something better than serving Aizen. All you needed was someone to give you a chance."

She held out her hand, and after a moment's hesitation, he slipped his hand into hers. "How can you be so forgiving?"

"Easy. Penguins come at night and sprinkle forgiveness dust on me." He stared at her, trying to determine if the seriousness of her tone was genuine. After a moment, she laughed nervously. "Sorry. I kind of lost my fun side while I was in Hueco Mundo, and I'm trying to get it back."

"It seems you will need more practice," he said flatly.

She giggled. "Yeah."

"Woman." She looked at him inquisitively. "No one has ever forgiven me. It feels..." He trailed off, frowning and narrowing his eyes in puzzlement.

"Nice?"

"...Yes. I think that's the word."

She smiled brightly. "Come on, then! Say it!"

"It feels... nice."

And the hint of a smile appeared on his face. Orihime returned it with interest.

"Well, come on! I need to get changed so we can go shopping!" She began running toward the far end of the park, Ulquiorra focused on keeping up with her... and neither of them noticed the eyes watching them from the trees.

* * *

><p>"Forgiveness?" Harribel whispered skeptically from her hiding place as she watched Orihime and Ulquiorra run. "You never change, Ulquiorra. You see everything... except what matters most."<p>

"What's that, Harribel-sama?" Franceska Mila Rose, one of her Fracciónes, asked from behind her. But Harribel did not respond, and her ice-blue eyes narrowed over her white coat's face-concealing collar as she focused yet more intently on the mismatched pair.

"Oh, who cares?" Emilou Apacci, another of Harribel's Fracciónes, said testily, brushing a lock of blue hair behind her ear. "I say we kill the traitor, here and now."

"And overstep our orders?" Cyan Sung-Sun, Harribel's third and final Fraccion, asked from behind her hand, which was, as ever, concealed by her loose-fitting sleeve and held in front of her face. "We are to watch the traitor and report on his actions, nothing more. Perhaps you were sleeping when Lord Aizen made those orders perfectly clear."

"Or perhaps she would rather join the traitor," Mila Rose put in, her turquoise eyes glinting mischievously in her dark-skinned face. "She always did have eyes for him."

"I did _not!_" Apacci squealed, raising her fist at the other two, who gave her challenging looks in return.

"Enough, girls," Harribel said, glancing over her shoulder, and the arguing ceased. Her Fracciónes might have enjoyed nothing more than fighting with each other, but their loyalty to the woman who rescued them from the meaningless violence of Hueco Mundo, and who brought meaning into their own lives, was infinitely more important to them than any enjoyment.

"What should we do, Harribel-sama?" Mila Rose asked, and Harribel turned her attention back to the now-empty park.

"We follow our orders. We watch, and wait... and we stay hidden." The girls flinched at that last point. Much as they loved arguing, they knew perfectly well that if they were too loud, they would give themselves away, cloaked reiatsu or no. It would never do for Harribel-sama's loyal Fracciónes to jeopardize the mission like that.

"Yes, Harribel-sama," they said in unison, bowing at the waist, each glaring at the others for being so foolish.

* * *

><p>After his guests left to go their separate ways, Urahara sat at the breakfast table and leaned back on his left hand, while his right one rested on his raised knee and his hat covered his right eye. He heaved a heavy sigh.<p>

"Well, that was certainly a lively morning," he said, then looked over his shoulder at the doorway. "Right, Yoruichi?"

The shapeshifter, currently in cat form, cocked her head. "We've had livelier," she said in the masculine voice her cat form favored.

Urahara chuckled and returned to gazing at nothing in particular. "That's true." Yoruichi padded over to him and rubbed her head against his side. He scratched behind her ears absentmindedly, and she purred contentedly before pulling away.

"So why are you really doing this?" she asked. Urahara looked down so that most of his face was hidden in shadow, and grinned.

"Doing what?" Yoruichi bristled her fur in indignation and walked behind him... and suddenly he felt her soft, bare arms encircling his waist, and her firm, very naked breasts pressing against his back.

"So you won't even tell me why you're risking everything to help him?" She nuzzled the back of his neck with her nose. "And if you tell me it's because you had a gigai of him lying around, I'll punch you in the face," she purred.

"You already did that," he answered, smiling faintly. "Don't want to start repeating yourself, do you?"

"You gave as good as you got," she said, rubbing her shin with her foot. Her shin, along with his face, had already healed; over the years, they'd learned each other's limits, and exactly how rough they could be with each other.

"Then we're even," he said, his smile widening into a grin, which she returned.

"Not by a long shot. An apology for making public jokes about our sex life requires cookies. Many, many cookies."

"I guess I'd better get started, then," he said, but instead of getting up to cook, he leaned back into her embrace and closed his eyes, his grin fading into a neutral expression, albeit one that was shaded by the dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey, Kisuke... I know you love keeping secrets, but I'm here for you, okay? Whatever your reasons for helping that Hollow, you don't have to go through it alone." She began rubbing his shoulders, and could feel the knots leaving them as her hands worked. He sighed more deeply than before, but this time relief predominated over weariness.

"I know," he said quietly. "I really don't want to get into details, not yet... but I will say this." He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead. Yoruichi craned her head around to see his face, and was startled to see the haunted look in his eyes.

"His soul isn't the only one I'm trying to save."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: First, a word about future updates. For a variety of reasons, I am hereby officially abandoning the biweekly update schedule; future updates will come as I can find time and energy to write them. That said, I am not abandoning any of my stories. On the contrary, one of the things I did in the last two months was to work on outlines for all of them, in the hope that they will help prevent long delays between chapters (no guarantee, of course, but hope springs eternal).

However, there is a specific reason for the delay in this chapter, apart from the usual real-life obstacles to writing for pleasure. Recently, a reader pointed me toward an UlquiHime doujinshi called _Bleach Redux_, written and illustrated by KoltirasRip (formerly RipVanWinkle). Like "The Things Reflected," it is based on the premise that Orihime heals Ulquiorra just after the second battle between him and Ichigo; that he survives as an Arrancar and has to deal with the consequences of having been one of Aizen's most loyal and effective soldiers; and that he begins fighting on the side of Soul Society. Reading this doujinshi engendered a powerful ambivalence in me. On the one hand, I am writing about UlquiHime because I love them and want them to be happy, and a considerable part of me rejoiced at seeing an opportunity for their happiness as well-written and well-illustrated as _Bleach Redux_ (so well-illustrated, in fact, that there are times when one might mistake it for Kubo's own work).

On the other hand, seeing another author's first-rate take on one's own premise can raise questions about the point of one's own writing, especially when one has flattered himself into believing that he is the only one using that premise. I began writing this story in large measure because, at the time, I knew of no other work that kept Ulquiorra alive as himself, that had him consciously and deliberately betraying Aizen right in the middle of the Winter War, and that tried to show how the three worlds – Hueco Mundo, Soul Society, and the human world – would deal with the consequences of Ulquiorra's and Orihime's actions. One of the things I did since posting chapter nine was to ask myself what point there was to my work if someone else was already writing something so similar to it, and also illustrating it better than I ever could (though of course the details are quite different).

That was when I realized that, if my story is to be unique, the premise alone is not enough. Though I have received much praise for keeping people quite firmly in character, it is time to begin taking the characters and the story in the direction that I see fit. I will of course do my best to make these developments, as Aristotle says of the best plot developments in his _Poetics_, "inevitable or probable," but they will be what _I_ see as inevitable or probable. Nonetheless, I hope that you, too, will find them both persuasive and enjoyable, just as I will.

Finally, Orihime's line "Forgiveness is an act of compassion" is taken from something Giles says to Buffy in season 2, episode 19, "I Only Have Eyes for You," and the second half of her line is a somewhat shortened paraphrase of Giles's elaboration of that point. It is beautiful and profound, and in a story like this, absolutely crucial.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: _Bleach_ was created by Tite Kubo and is published in _Shonen Jump_. Studio Pierrot is responsible for the anime adaptation, and Viz Media for the official English release. No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

The first thing Ulquiorra noticed when they entered Orihime's second-floor apartment was how spare it was. The main living area lay to the right, and its sole furnishings were a low, circular table with a lamp on it, a sofa pressed up against the wall to the left of the table, and a large cathode-ray television set on a credenza near the apartment's entrance. The sofa held a single pillow, black with a white-diamond pattern, and a stack of neatly folded blankets with various designs lay in front of the television, which was oddly placed to the right of the sofa, rather than across from it for easy viewing. Beyond the table, a sliding curtain concealed either a balcony door or a bay window. To the left, a small kitchen, separated from the living area by an island with three high-legged chairs, contained a four-range stove, a refrigerator, and a row of cabinets near the ceiling, with another along the floor. Presumably, the refrigerator and cabinets concealed a number of items, but the only appliances in plain view were a rice cooker on the counter next to the refrigerator, and a rack of knives on the island.

"I didn't expect your house to be so organized," he said, and Orihime smiled self-consciously.

"Usually it's not, but I had to put things in order before-" She cut herself off, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Before I abducted you," Ulquiorra finished for her. She lowered her hand and nodded, blushing faintly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to bring it up again," she said quietly. He contemplated her for a moment, and frowned ever so slightly.

"Why are you apologizing, woman? I was the one who wronged you."

"Well, it's like you said: we have to put that behind us if we're going to be friends," she smiled. "Now, you go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I need to shower before I get changed, so it'll be a little while." She turned to leave, then gasped and looked back as though she had just remembered something. "If you want to watch TV, the remote's right over there." She pointed to the left side of the television set. Ulquiorra didn't turn to look at it.

"I have never been interested in television. Grimmjow was fond of it – and almost invariably became more cretinous than usual after watching it."

Orihime's face crumbled. "Oh. Well, I'm sure you can find something to amuse yourself. I have some books in my room – if you wait until you hear the shower running, you can come in and look through those." She turned away and began hurrying toward the closed door on the border between the kitchen and the living area, but the glistening of her eyes portended tears, and Ulquiorra felt that gnawing again.

"Woman." She stopped, but didn't turn around. "There is something I have to ask you."

"What is it?" She still didn't turn around, and the gnawing intensified.

"Since you healed me, something's changed. Now, when I hurt you, it feels like I'm being devoured from the inside. I need to know what that feeling is, and..." He paused, not sure he wanted to show his whole hand like this. But Orihime turned around, and though she was clearly fighting back her tears, her expression was inquisitive. There it was: that strength that had fascinated him ever since she first declared her loyalty to Aizen. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for her to give up on him, leave him to the tender mercies of the Shinigami, but instead she had fought for him. She seemed to truly believe that he was not only capable of understanding the heart, but worthy of learning about it.

_If I can't show my hand to her... who else is there?_

"Ulquiorra-kun?"

"...I need to know how to get rid of it."

She stared at him for a moment, and frowned sadly.

"It's guilt."

"Guilt?" He had read about it, and knew something of how to induce it in others – the best way was to make them believe they were responsible for some great wrong, even if they weren't – but he had never experienced it. _So this is what it feels like_. "How do I get rid of it?"

"The easiest way," she answered, "is probably not to do things that make you feel guilty in the first place."

"That goes without saying. But once I do feel it, what do I do?"

"Well... a good place to start is to apologize."

"Apologize?"

"Yes. It won't solve everything, but if you tell the person you've hurt that you're sorry, it'll help that person start to feel better, and then you'll feel better because they feel better."

He recognized that pattern of thinking. "You're saying it's a matter of empathy? You apologize... because of the heart?"

She smiled – no, she beamed like the sun. "That's it, Ulquiorra-kun! That's exactly it!"

"Very well." As with everything related to empathy, it still sounded like some absurd human delusion, but if he was to understand the heart, he would have to trust her. Besides, he realized to his consternation, he was finding it more and more difficult to resist her requests when she smiled. He submerged his doubts, put a fist to his chest, and bowed his head. "You have my humblest apologies for insulting your hobby." When he raised his head, Orihime looked stunned, and he frowned as he returned his hand to his pocket. "Was that not sufficient?"

She looked flustered. "N-no, your apology was fine! It's just... don't you think it was a little too much?" She looked away in embarrassment. "I mean, all you did was say you didn't like TV-"

"And in doing so, I hurt you. I don't want to do that again." Orihime's blush deepened, and she waved her hand awkwardly while scratching the back of her neck with her other hand.

"It's fine, really! Um... oh, look at the time! If we don't get moving, all the stores will close!" And she dashed into her room and slammed the door before Ulquiorra could say a word. A small sweatdrop formed on his forehead.

"Woman... when did you master sonido?" he muttered sardonically. But as his chagrin dissipated, Ulquiorra realized that the apology had apparently worked: the feeling of guilt was gone.

_Is that all it takes? Strange... then like the Shun Shun Rikka, the heart has the power to heal as well as wound._

He had not expected that. All his experience had led him to believe that allowing others to get close, or presenting them with the slightest sign of vulnerability, inevitably meant getting hurt, and the extraordinary dangers into which the hearts of Orihime's friends led them made it clear that the consequences of blindly following the heart could be fatal. Yet they had won, and he had lost, because he had underestimated the heart's power to hurt.

_But what if I'm also here because I underestimated its power to heal? If the analogy to the Shun Shun Rikka holds, the heart can reject an existence... but what if it could-_

He cut off that line of thought with a will. It was absurd. Orihime's power could reject death itself, but it could not change a person's fundamental nature. Even the Hougyoku could only combine a Hollow with another kind of existence; nothing could stop a Hollow from being a Hollow. He put a hand to his chest, and the smooth skin there only underlined its own falsity, mocking him for even glancing at such delusions.

_Nothing can restore a heart that has been lost. All I can hope for now is to understand it._

A minute later, he heard the sound of running water, and decided that he might as well see what books she had.

"I'm coming in," he said as he approached the closed door. When no one answered, he opened the door. This room, too, was organized, though not quite as much as the others. A Western-style bed, with its head pressed up against the far wall, was neatly made. Two pillows rested side-by-side, and resting on top of them were the stuffed animals he had heard about several times; apparently they provided a great deal of comfort during Orihime's darker hours. Against the right wall, next to the door that presumably led to the bathroom, was a bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling, with samples of pottery interspersed among the books, and an empty vase in the center of the middle shelf. A dresser stood against the left wall, with an open closet to its right, and several articles of clothing had been tossed on the bed and floor, as though the woman had no time to look through them neatly. He wondered briefly what might have caused her haste, but that question answered itself when he noticed the woman's Arrancar outfit lying in a crumpled heap in the far corner, next to the closet.

_So that's it. She was in a hurry to get out of that uniform, and into something else._

Ulquiorra stared at the discarded garment for a long time.

_What a pity – it really did suit her._

And he forgot the bookshelf.

* * *

><p>For the first few minutes of her shower, Orihime didn't think of anything as the warm water washed over her. Yesterday's shower had taken care of the grime of Hueco Mundo and the panic she'd been in over her Arrancar outfit, but it hadn't done much to soothe her more deeply rooted anxieties. Now, however, with only her relatively mild flustering at Ulquiorra's apology, she calmed down quickly, and the water, having soothed her surface cares, worked its way down into the deeper layers of her mind.<p>

_Ulquiorra-kun apologized... and he did it because of the heart._

That was reassuring, but also unsettling. Everything she knew about him came from his time as Aizen's most loyal Espada – but what did that mean now? How much about him could she be sure of since he'd given up something so central to his character, and was trying to replace it with something he only barely understood? She shook her head, trying to dislodge her doubts.

_Ulquiorra-kun apologized, and he did it because of the heart. He really does want to understand. I've already stuck my neck out for him – I have to believe in him._

She wrung water out of her hair, and sent her anxieties about Ulquiorra down the drain with it. Her thoughts then turned to another friend of hers whom she had to believe in.

_I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun. I'd love to be the rain that joins heaven and earth, and touches hearts everywhere... but all that my rain has brought you is sorrow. When I called out to you for help, it was the monster inside of you that answered... and if you manage to gain control of that monster, it won't be because of me._

A lump formed in her throat, and she closed her eyes and swallowed.

_It'll be in spite of me._

She didn't cry. She was tired of crying – tired of crying out – tired of standing around, waiting for her friends to protect her, only to have them get hurt. She opened her eyes and stared at her hairpins, lying on the shelf next to the soap.

_But I don't have to do that, do I? I have the power to protect myself._

She stood there for a moment, her jaw set in resolution. In her mind, action-movie music started playing.

_It's time I started using it._

And then she crashed back to reality, wondering how to do that. _Stupid details, ruining my awesome moments_, she thought, frown-pouting. Her powers were based on her strength of will, but she didn't like hurting people, even if they were her enemies. So how could she build an offense that she could use with all her will? Koten Zanshun was her attack; Santen Kesshun was her shield. But what if... what if... A light came into her eyes.

_What if I could combine them?_

"Ayame, Shun'ou, Baigon, Hinagiku, Lily, Tsubaki." And six lights flashed from her hairpins, one right after another, as her fairies flew out of them.

"So you're finally ready, woman," Tsubaki grumbled through his scarf, arms folded in front of his chest. "Would've been nice if you figured this out _before_ that big lug crushed me."

Lily flew over and smacked him on the back of the head. "Dummy... don't say things like that! You know very well that the higher-order techniques of the Shun Shun Rikka-"

"Could've damaged us or her just as easily as her enemies, if she weren't ready for them." the grumpy fairy finished, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You'd be in a bad mood, too, if you got ground to bits by a Hollow."

"Um... b-but you were in a bad mood before you got ground to bits by a Hollow," Ayame put in quietly, and folded her wings around herself as Tsubaki glared at her.

"Well, there's no helping it," he said, turning back to Orihime. "At least you figured it out before you could get kidnapped again."

"You don't have to be so rude about it," Shun'ou interjected.

"No, he's right," Orihime said as she began soaping herself up. "If I'm going to fight alongside my friends, I can't fool around anymore."

"Damn right," Tsubaki responded. "But let's be clear: the techniques you're thinking of don't involve your attacking at all, at least not directly. Every one of them is based on the strength of your opponents' attacks."

"Right," Orihime nodded. "So, what are these higher-order techniques?"

"The first one is Shiten Koushun," Tsubaki explained. "It's like the shield you've been using all along, but-" he jerked at thumb at himself "-it adds me to the mix, so that instead of the attack just being canceled, it gets turned back on the person attacking you." He raised an eyebrow at Orihime. "So what do you say? Can you put your whole will behind that, woman?"

"Sure – I'm only hurting them as much as they try to hurt me, or my friends. Any damage they suffer is their own fault." Tsubaki flicked her forehead with his finger. "H-Hey... that really hurt," Orihime squealed, rubbing the sore spot.

"Focus, woman! When lives are on the line, it's not enough to think, 'Oh, he's only hurting himself.' It doesn't matter if you're using your own sword, or turning an enemy's sword back against him; if you're going to cut, you need to be ready to kill. And don't tell me you're not capable of it. When we introduced ourselves to you, you didn't hesitate – that Hollow was dead before it hit the ground. I don't know how you lost that killer instinct, but figure out what you have to do to get it back, and _do it_."

Orihime closed her eyes as the last of the soap washed away from her body. When that Hollow attacked her and Tatsuki-chan, she'd been acting on a kind of rage she rarely felt. It was one thing to focus all her will on killing an enemy who had infuriated her like that, but quite another to try and summon that fury at will. Could she do it? And then the image of Kurosaki-kun coming back from the dead as a monster, looming over her in silent menace, flashed before her. _You have to take responsibility for your part in becoming a monster, Kurosaki-kun... but I have to take responsibility for my part, too. I promise you, I'll never need to call out for help again._

She opened her eyes and narrowed them in determination, focusing on Tsubaki. "Understood." She turned off the water and began toweling herself off. "What are the other advanced techniques?"

It was hard to tell with the scarf covering his face from the nose down, but she thought Tsubaki smiled grimly. "Not yet. You need some practice with the Shiten Koushun first."

"What? Why?" Orihime's determination gave way to confusion.

"All the powers of the Shun Shun Rikka depend on your strength of will," Shun'ou took over, "but the advanced techniques also depend on the strength of the enemy's attack. With the five- and six-fold shields, the strength of the attack determines by how much you'll be healed. If you don't practice channeling that energy, however, you may absorb too much of it too quickly and burn yourself out."

"Burn myself out?"

"What topknot means," Tsubaki interjected, "is that if you don't know what you're doing, one or more of us could overload and die. In the worst-case scenario, you'd be joining us." Orihime gulped.

"My, my," Shun'ou said lightly, "with a manner like that, it's lucky you're not a schoolteacher." He turned back to Orihime. "Your power works by rejecting phenomena, correct?" Orihime nodded. "But if you haven't learned to properly channel the healing energy provided by the advanced techniques, it may end up rejecting more than you intended, possibly including things that aren't even injuries."

"Your arms, for instance," Tsubaki interjected. Orihime's eyes went wide at that, and Shun'ou raised an eyebrow at Tsubaki.

"Are you quite done?" Tsubaki didn't answer, and Shun'ou turned back to Orihime with a comforting smile. "Anyway, that won't be a problem if you just learn to channel the energy of an enemy's attack, and the safest way to do that is with Shiten Koushun. That way, all the energy of the attack is either reflected or absorbed."

"I see," she smiled, regaining her composure. "Well, thank you all. I'll call you when I need you." The fairies bowed to her, except for Tsubaki, who just nodded, and turned back into her hairpins. Orihime blow-dried her hair quickly before putting the hairpins back in, wrapping a towel around herself, and exiting the bathroom.

During her time in Hueco Mundo, Ulquiorra had stood guard just outside the door every time she showered, so she didn't think anything of having him in her apartment while she showered. But she realized, as she entered her bedroom to find him standing there, staring into the corner, that maybe she should've thought something of it.

"_AAAAAAAAAAH!_"

* * *

><p>Ulquiorra didn't realize how long he had spent gazing at the woman's Arrancar outfit until he heard her scream. He whipped around to find her standing there, wearing only a towel. His eyes went wide.<p>

"Woman-"

"_Don't look!_" she squealed, dashing back into the bathroom and slamming the door.

"Woman," he said, approaching the bathroom door, "I'm leaving the room now." She didn't answer. He turned to leave before remembering the surprisingly effective technique he'd just learned. "I'm sorry for seeing you nearly naked," he said. Still no answer. He knew that humans generally objected to being seen naked, and in that respect, the woman was no exception at all, but he hadn't known just how badly she would take it.

_So even though I'm no longer her captor, I still cause her pain._

He left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He knew that friends weren't supposed to cause each other pain, though his experiences with the woman and her friends made him wonder how often that principle held. At any rate, by that measure he had failed as a friend, and the apology did not seem to have been sufficient. How, then, might he make recompense for the injury he had done? He sat on the couch, folded his hands together, rested his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees, and tried to ignore the new development that, for the first time, made him glad his pants were so loose.

_What a pointless function to include in a gigai_.

* * *

><p>Orihime put her hand to her chest and tried to calm her frantic breathing. Ulquiorra-kun was speaking through the door, but she didn't understand the words.<p>

_Ulquiorra-kun was... he was..._

The heaving of her chest slowed, and her mind cleared, she realized she wasn't sure _what_ he was doing. She opened the door a crack and peeped out.

"Ulquiorra-kun?" she said quietly. No answer. She entered the bedroom to find he had left, so she walked over to the opposite door and opened it a crack. "Ulquiorra-kun, are you out there?"

"Yes." Good – he didn't sound annoyed.

"Sorry about that... I didn't think you'd be in this room."

He was silent for a moment. "Woman... that's twice you've apologized without doing anything wrong."

She blushed. "Um, sorry... I do that sometimes."

"That's three times."

"Sorry... uh, I mean, I'm not sorry! Not sorry at all!" Laughing nervously, she pulled the door closed; if he answered her, she didn't hear it. She hung up her towel and dressed quickly, choosing a yellow T-shirt and some white capris. By the time Orihime exited the bedroom, Ulquiorra was standing in the middle of the living area, hands in pockets.

"Are you ready?" he said, turning to face her. She nodded, smiling awkwardly. But as Ulquiorra turned toward the door, the doubts she had tried to send down the drain resurfaced, and she realized she had to settle them now.

"Ulquiorra-kun?" He turned back to her. "You've asked me a lot of questions, and I'm happy to answer them, but there are also questions I need to ask you."

"Can this wait? I'd like to get this 'shopping' finished as soon as possible."

"It shouldn't take too long," she said, smiling ingratiatingly, and after a moment, Ulquiorra nodded. She clapped her hands together in joy.

"Well, what are your questions?"

"Oh, right. Um... well, I guess the first is how you came to work for Aizen."

"'Came to work for'?" He frowned. "You make it sound like the job Urahara offered me."

"Well, serve, then!" Orihime said insistently. The former Espada was silent for a moment, and Orihime was stunned to see him look lost.

"Before Lord Aizen, Hollows evolved only by chance and by instinct. Beyond giving us powers that resembled those of the Shinigami, he brought a measure of order and stability to Hueco Mundo that we would never have seen otherwise – certainly not under Barragan, who was more concerned with amusing himself than working toward any great vision. We all owe him a debt we can never repay." He paused, and Orihime sensed he had more to say, so she stayed quiet and let Ulquiorra collect his thoughts. "For me, however, it's more than that. Some of the Espadas were happy fighting for the sake of fighting, but I was never one of them. For most of my life, I wandered the wasteland of Hueco Mundo, trying to achieve the only kind of happiness I could imagine. Then Lord Aizen came along, and showed me that he understood better than anyone else what it meant to live in a world with a void at its center." Orihime was stunned. She half-expected him to refuse to answer the question at all, so a detailed answer like that was a complete surprise.

"What did he offer you?" He looked at her, silently inquisitive, and she blushed. Was this pushing her luck too far? But he didn't seem like he was losing patience, so she decided to continue. "I mean, like you said, you weren't in it for random violence. You weren't looking for friends, like Starrk-san, or to protect anyone, like Harribel-san, or for personal power, like Barragan-san. And although you're really smart, you weren't a researcher like Granz-san. You don't seem like you would be interested in flattery or money." She realized she had never considered whether Hollows used money. A picture of Ulquiorra buying snacks at a convenience store, staffed by a Hollow who dressed like Urahara-san and whose mask had a big, friendly smile on it, popped into her head. Ulquiorra was the type who would always have correct change, no matter how big or small the purchase, and she saw him digging through his pockets to count it out. Maybe that was why his hands were always in them – he wanted to make sure his change hadn't fallen out. That led her to wonder how it didn't go flying around when he fought. Maybe he had some kind of special lining in his pockets – or even zippers. Yeah, that was it! He had the first pants ever with zippers inside the pockets! In five years or less, the entire fashion world would be talking about-

"Are you listening?" She shook her head, and realized that she had spaced out.

"Sorry," she blushed for the hundredth time that day. "Could you, um, say that again?"

Ulquiorra looked away from her. "You are correct to separate me from Szayelaporro. He was interested in experimental data. I had a different kind of question." He paused, and Orihime sensed that although he had something more to say, he wasn't sure whether to voice his thoughts. She decided to press him, ever so gently.

"What did he offer you, Ulquiorra-kun?" she asked quietly.

He breathed out slowly. If he were anyone else, Orihime would've called it a sigh. "A chance to give meaning to my life by helping him achieve godhood. In doing so, I would learn whether happiness is possible in this world. If even a god could not grant it, I would have learned beyond any doubt that the only possible happiness is nonexistence. Anything else is delusion."

"And what if you _did_ find happiness?" He didn't answer, and Orihime's eyes slowly widened. "You never believed you would," she whispered.

He looked back at her, and Orihime had never seen such sorrow in his eyes, not even when he was crumbling to ash and reaching out to her for one last chance. "Lord Aizen was right to expect my betrayal. No path to annihilation is more certain than drawing the wrath of a god."

"Oh, Ulquiorra-kun... how could you think like that?" she whispered. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything she expected him to answer, so she was surprised when he walked over to the couch and slumped onto it, with his elbows resting on his knees – though resting was the wrong word for such a defeated posture. Orihime sat beside him and rubbed her hand on his back, but he stared straight ahead as he spoke, almost as though speaking to himself.

"The first thing I remember," he began, "is being surrounded by blackness. The other Hollows blended with it, but I, with my white form, stood out against it. I suspect they attacked me because I didn't look like one of them – or perhaps they thought I would be easy prey. If so, I proved them wrong." He raised his eyes to her, and his face was as blank as his tone. "But it was the same everywhere I went. I wondered sometimes if I might be able to talk to them, but before it broke, the mask covered everything but my eyes. So I killed them when they tried to kill me, and I wandered the desert alone. No scents, no sounds... nothing but what I saw, and all of it utterly pointless." He paused. "The things reflected in my eyes had no meaning. The things that couldn't be reflected in my eyes did not exist. That was what I believed... until I saw it."

He paused. "Do you remember the trees of Hueco Mundo?" The woman nodded. "It was like them, yet not like them. For the first time, my eyes were captivated. No color, no sound, no scent, no interactions with the world around it... it was the closest thing to a void that I have ever encountered. I sank into that void, and although it broke off half of my mask, it repaid me by letting me dissolve into it. Everything else vanished, and I realized that if nothing could make me happy, perhaps I could find happiness in nothingness. Having nothing, and having nothing to lose... if that isn't happiness, what is?"

"Ulquiorra-kun..." And before he knew what was happening, her arms were around him, and her face was buried in his chest.

"What are you doing, woman?" She didn't answer at first, and he was startled to feel a growing wetness on his chest. Was she... crying? He was accustomed to being unable to predict her actions – it was one of the reasons she fascinated him – but why should she cry at hearing him describe his greatest happiness? Was he so hateful to her? That wouldn't surprise him – of all the pain he had ever inflicted, none of it had been so personal, or so calculated to produce absolute despair, as what he inflicted on her. But then why had she gone to so much trouble to save him?

"How could you stand it?" she mumbled into his chest. She looked up, and tears were streaming down her face, but mixed in with the sorrow was an overwhelming amount of pity. Normally he despised being pitied, but this time his first instinct was to try to stop her from crying, and he barely remembered to chastise himself for such a naïvely human reaction. "No friends... no hope... no love... how could you stand to live like that?"

Ah. So she wasn't crying because she found him hateful. That was good. "At the time, I couldn't imagine any kind of happiness other than nonexistence. Afterward, when I joined with Lord Aizen, I realized that my experiences with other Hollows were no accident. Even the most highly developed were ruled by violence, malice, and stupidity. Humans and Shinigami were trash – I was absolutely convinced of that – but Hollows were trash's trash, the most vicious elements of a disgusting race, excelling them only in destructive power. And I realized that a creature like that – a creature like me – has no right to any other kind of happiness."

"_STOP IT!_" she cried, pulling back from him and pounding her fist on his chest. "Just _stop it_, _Ulquiorra-kun!_"

"I told you, don't address me as you would a human." But he was numb; there was no energy in his protest, and even the force of her fist produced nothing more than a faint sting. He was talking for the sake of talking, nothing more.

"How _should_ I address you? As a monster?" He stared silently at her, and she threw her arms around him again, hugging him tighter than before. "You're not. _You're not!_" Her chin pressed into his shoulder as she cried out.

"Woman..." Although he had whispered, the barely perceptible tremor in his voice sent a shiver through her. "You are a fool to embrace me."

"Maybe," she answered, as her fingers tightened on his back, "but I don't care. You're a good person, Ulquiorra-kun. You just need someone to believe in it... no, someone to see it."

"Again you make me repeat myself. There is nothing that my eyes overlook. If I don't see it, it does not exist." His shoulders slumped, though the rest of him remained stone-still. "I have never once seen goodness in myself."

She smiled through her tears. "That's because you're looking with these," she said, pulling back from him and placing a hand over his eyes. "You need to look with this." And she placed her other hand on his chest.

He was about to protest – the filling of his Hollow hole, like the disappearance of his mask, was nothing more than an illusion created by the gigai – but he stopped with his mouth half-open. For the first time, the hole in his chest...

where his heart ought to be...

felt warm.

The woman removed her hand from his eyes, which had widened in shock, and smiled gently.

"Do you see now, Ulquiorra-kun?" He took a moment to collect himself.

"No." She looked crestfallen, and he realized she had misunderstood his curt reply. Fighting against the inhibitions of a lifetime, he reached out and embraced her, holding her gently. "But for the first time," he whispered, "I think I might." Orihime gasped quietly, and for an instant, cold terror stabbed through Ulquiorra. Had he made a mistake? But the woman enfolded him with her arms, and he closed his eyes as the warmth that had begun in his chest radiated throughout his whole body.

_For the first time... I want to be worthy of something more than following orders_.

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><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: For a while, I wasn't sure whether I should have Ulquiorra address his background and his reasons for joining Aizen at such a relatively early point in the story. I finally decided to do so because Ulquiorra needs to confide in someone: his whole existence has been turned upside-down, and the very atmosphere that swirls around him makes him uncomfortable, so it's crucial for him to have the kind of stability that trusting in someone can provide. If it seems as though he opened up to her too quickly, he would probably agree under normal circumstances – but these circumstances are hardly normal. (His backstory, of course, comes from the 100% canonical UlquiHime doujinshi... er, I mean, eleven-page Ulquiorra-centered comic written and drawn by Kubo himself in the _Unmasked_ character book, translated by DeviantArt's Ebony-of-the-Moon, and reposted everywhere UlquiHime fans lurk).

Regarding the Shun Shun Rikka, I wanted to do something with it that I hadn't seen done before, and I like what I've come up with. That said, if someone more skilled in Japanese than I am could help me devise names for the five- and six-fold shields, I'd be grateful. I'd prefer Japanese names, since I'm using the Japanese names of her other four techniques, but if push comes to shove, I'll use English names that sound good over Japanese ones that sound like they were thrown together just for the sake of having Japanese names (and no, I haven't thought of English names yet, but I'll do so in the next day or two).

I can see Grimmjow enjoying the trashiest sort of reality TV, or big, dumb, loud action movies. Not much else to say about that, really.

I haven't titled my chapters for this story, but if I had, I probably would've called this one "For the First Time." On the other hand, one more use of that phrase, and I might have a cybermob outside my cyberdoor with torches and pitchforks. Cyber ones.

Finally, the shower scene. I hope it didn't come off as fanservice in the crude sense, but I can at least promise that there will be similar scenes for male characters as well, and I'll do my best to make them semi-gratuitous at most, by using them to advance plot, characterization, or both. Speaking of which, does anyone know whether a semi-gratuitous shower scene is enough to bump the rating up to M? The ratings descriptions are singularly vague and unhelpful.


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